Out In The Wild
by Bad Dancer
Summary: "My princess, I wouldn't count you out of this game just yet. There's potential in you, despite what your queen mother might think. I've always known that great men cast shadows. And a very little girl could still cast a very large shadow." Jon/OC
1. Windows

Her room was dark.

It was always dark. But that didn't make it any better.

Sienna blinked her green eyes in an attempt to adjust her sight. She had been told the sunlight would make her head hurt worse than it already did, and she had no other option but to lay alone in the dark. Her only company most days was the nurse who came and went with few words to the child.

She was so lonely at the moment that she would have even taken time with her father. He always stunk of something sharp and staggered about like someone had hit him over the head with his famous war hammer, but he was better than nothing. Her mother had said a few times that something he drank made him that way. Sienna wondered why he drank it, then. Yet, at this moment, she still wanted someone, _anyone,_ to talk to.

Perhaps seeing another person might make the room less dark.

The weak princess pulled up her scrawny legs from underneath her thick blankets and was immediately hit with a rack of shivers. Her cold, sweaty body ached as she hopped down from the tall bed. Her muscles burned as she landed on the cold, stone floor and took a few staggering steps towards the window.

She felt her long limbs sway as she moved, the ache worsening in her head. She was tall for her age, only one and ten. Yet she grew quick, much to the worry of her mother and the maester who cared for her.

Placing a small, clammy hand on the material, Sienna pulled her enormous curtains back slightly, peeking out across the gardens. Her dark eyes had to adjust to the sliver of light before she could see anything. Slowly, the bright white light of the outside ebbed away and Sienna could see clearly. Below her was her mother, beautiful as ever, walking along a sunlit path with her uncle Jaime.

The two adults seemed to spend most of their time together, since whenever Sienna peered out into the gardens, they were there. Sienna wished she was as close with her own little brother, but their mother hadn't let them meet. She always said that she didn't want Joffrey to see how ill his big sister was, and that they would see each other when Sienna was well.

Sienna doubted that time would ever come to pass.

The sunlight painted the green of the garden with a soft yellow wash, making the world seem to be touched by gold. The reds of the flowers made the gold of her queen mother's hair stand out among the deep blue's of the bushes she was walking past. Sienna wished she could look like her mother.

"Oh dear, is someone sneaking out of bed without her mothers permission? I hear that's punishable by death these days."

Sienna whipped around, nearly knocking herself over in the process, to see her uncle Tyrion standing leaning against the doorframe smirking over at her.

"Uncle Tyrion!", Sienna squeaked, a small smile inching across her face as she half ran towards her uncle to tackle him in a hug. She tucked her chin over his head as he hugged her just as fiercely as she hugged him. He was the only person in the world who wasn't afraid to treat her like the wasn't made of glass. Perhaps his hugs did cause a bruise or two, but he didn't need to know that.

"You're back from Casterly Rock", she smiled, pulling away from her uncle to see him smirking up at her.

"And the shit never flowed better", he responded, pulling something out from under his arm, "The sewer system is running as perfectly as it can now. And I may have brought something back from my little adventure, little Poppy."

Tyrion pulled out the large lump from under his arm to reveal two books bound together by twine. Sienna's lips pressed together to form a longer smile as she gently removed the books from Tyrion's extended hands.

"My, I did miss that smile of yours", he quipped sarcastically, narrowing his eyes with a smirk, "Always so bright, so all consuming. How could anyone have such a large smile?"

"The same way you can be so humble", Sienna shot back, sending him a little glare. He chuckled, scrunching his nose in that way he only did when he was truly happy. She looked back down at the books and undid the twine. She separated them to see that one was on titled _The History of Dorne_ and the other _The Night's Watch: A History_.

"There seems to be a history theme", she quipped, weighing the books in her hands.

"Well, you finished every book on the houses of Westeros and the anatomy of dragons I have, so I thought this might be a good change of pace", Tyrion jested, waddling over towards the set of chairs in the corner by the window.

"But why Dorne?" she inquired, padding towards her uncle, "And why the Night's Watch?"

"Well", Tyrion drawled, hopping into a chair and settling in, "Dorne has a rich history, many battles and passionate affairs. Rather fascinating, if you ask me. And the Night's Watch are tales of heroes going beyond the wall, risking their lives for the greater good, facing Wildlings and the like. I thought you might enjoy a few tales of heroes. We all deserve to have a few."

Sienna flipped the dark blue and orange books around in her pale hands, delicately handling her new treasures.

"Besides", Tyrion continued, smiling up at his niece, "You always did have a morbid fascination with blood."

"Well, I'll begin the book right away", she replied breezily, still lightly tracing the edges of the book with her fingertips.

Tyrion smiled gently over at his niece, his heart warming at the sight of her excitement.

"Unfortunately", he said disappointedly, "I cannot stay long for now. I must report back to my dear sister and her oaf of a husband."

Sienna wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Can't you stay here? At least for the rest of the afternoon? We'll start with the Dornish book, work our way through like we always do?"

Tyrion smiled over at his niece, causing her face to fall. She knew what that smile meant. Her shoulders slumped and she pulled the books closer to her chest.

"I'm sorry, Sienna", Tyrion said earnestly, hopping off of the chair and walking towards the little girl, "But you know how this family works. Nothing is overlooked, even if we wish it would be. I have to speak with your mother, then I'll be back tomorrow morning at first light. I promise."

Sienna tried to keep the disappointment off her face, but knew she was failing. She nodded her head slowly, running her fingers over the soft covers of the books absentmindedly. She pressed her lips together to keep the scowl off her face, but knew her uncle could see straight through it. His hand twitched, as if he was about to reach up to her but thought better of it. He sighed, keeping his eyes on her.

"I'll be back, Poppy", he insisted gently, giving her a reassuring smile, "Read as much as you please without me. Just be sure to recount the tales with as much vigor as you read them with. Do we have a deal?"

He held out his chubby little hand for Sienna. She glanced down at it, nodding once again before clumsily clasping it in her own small hand. "It's a deal."

Tyrion's smile spread across his face before he gently shook her hand. The two let go, Sienna feeling like she was losing her window into the world outside as her uncle waddled away from her and towards the door. He spared her a glance before turning the corner and leaving her alone again, shutting the door behind him.

Sienna stood alone in the room, letting the sun drench the room in a small attempt at a way of feeling like she was outside. The warmth began to spread through the room as she sighed and turned towards the window, books still clutched to her chest.

The raven haired girl sat at the edge of the patch of sunlight and lay her book across her lap, pushing down her disappointment in order to consume the tales of lust and adventure that lay in the pages before her.

For nearly an hour, she sat there, undisturbed as she absorbed every Dornish tale from the pages in front of her. Tyrion had been right, there were more than enough bloody tales to quench her thirst for morbid stories. She was now on a particularly gruesome recounting of a Dornish prince who stabbed his brother through the neck.

Suddenly, Sienna heard footsteps coming towards her door. The heavy, slapping footfalls of Septa Charity became louder quickly. Sienna, panicking, stumbled towards her bed as to not let the nurse know she had been out of it.

Her toes caught on a bump in the stone floor that sent her sprawling down. Sienna cried out as she felt her knees scrape across the cobbled ground and was promptly shut up by her chin hitting the ground.

The pain was starting to spread when the door swung open violently, revealing the septa in her ever-wrinkled dress glaring down at Sienna with wide eyes.

"What in Seven Hells are you doing, child!", she spat, marching towards the tiny girl, "Your mother would have your head for stumbling about like this."

"Then you can just not tell her", muttered Sienna, glaring right back at the stupid nurse.

"Enough of your cheek, girl!", she sneered. Her cold, bony hands wrapped their way around Sienna's arms as she pulled her painfully up to her feet.

"What your mother would do to me if she saw you in such a state. I swear, whenever that dwarf comes around...", the septa muttered under her breath like a curse.

Sienna felt her back ache as she was placed not too kindly back onto the bed, her soft blankets falling back over her frame. Septa Charity grabbed irritably at the blankets and shoved them up to Sienna's shoulders, effectively burying her in cloth.

"And quit your scowling", she quipped, pinching at Sienna's cheek, "No one wants to look at such a miserable girl."

"Then people must hate looking at you", Sienna snapped back, rubbing at her cheek where the woman had just pinched her. She couldn't help it if her face naturally fell into a frown. It wasn't like anyone was around much to complain.

Like a rat poking its head out of a hole, Septa Charity's head snapped up and around towards the window. Sienna's eyes widened, feeling dread set in. She wasn't supposed to open the curtains.

With a grunt of frustration, the septa stomped her way over to the curtains and shoved them closed so hard they might have ripped off of the hangers.

"Gods, girl! You know full well the sunlight will hurt your eyes and head more than you can handle."

"I can handle a little sunlight", whined Sienna, sitting up in bed, "I'm not that sick. If you would just-"

"Young lady, I've told you to _be quiet!"_ snapped the nurse, her face an ugly red even in the darkness. The sounds of her stomping feet echoed across the room before she slammed the door behind her, leaving Sienna gaping with an unspoken retort.

She was left alone, feeling the darkness drown her once again.


	2. In The Shadows

The taste of bile spread from Sienna's tongue to her nose as she lay hunched over her chamber pot, retching into it for nearly an hour. When there was nothing left inside of her, all that remained was the trail of sick that spilled from her lips like rain that just wouldn't come to an end.

She was able to lift her head long enough to see little droplets of red inside the sick, making her want to retch all over again.

Septa Charity paced around the room, muttering curses to herself as her greying hair poked out from underneath her frock. Beside her, sitting on a chair lazily, was Maester Pycelle, barely moving and disinterested in the girl practically spewing her innards out in front of him.

"Oh, dear", Maester Pycelle muttered, his voice travelling from behind her as he adjusted himself in his chair, "It looks as if it's finally coming to an end."

The dark haired girl wanted nothing more that to spin around and slap the old maester hard across the face, scream at him for doing absolutely nothing until her voice gave out. Possibly kick the old septa in the shins for good measure. But she was too weak to even try. Instead, Sienna diverged all her attention to trying to keep her muscles from spasming. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, gripping onto the sides of the chamber pot as if they were the only things keeping her from spinning out of control.

"I want…", she struggled to choke out, sweat clotting across her brow, "I want to go outside."

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, your highness", the old maester croaked, his voice passive as if he were indulging the whims of an infant.

Septa Charity scoffed, stopping her pacing and crossing her arms sternly in front of her heavy chest. "Wants to go outside, she says. Little thing never gives us a moment of peace…"

Sienna gritted her teeth even harder. "You really… really are the worst person I know."

Sienna felt her face heat up with anger as her shoulders began to twitch. Her muscled burned, feeling as if they had been tied into knots all the way up her back. 'The… the fresh air may-"

"The fresh air will do nothing for you", Pycelle cut in, his chair creaking underneath him, "It may well make you even worse."

The pale girl felt the sweat drip down her face, her hair sticking to her cheeks. The sounds around her began to blur together, the mutterings and complaints of the two adults bleeding into nothing. Her muscles continued to twitch, now turning into full spasms. She felt as if her body was trying to rip itself apart.

As she fell to the ground, her body continued to convulse. She could taste blood dripping from her nose before the feeling of cloth spread across her tongue. The septa must have put the rag in her mouth to keep her from biting off her tongue.

Someone propped her up against the bed and tilted her head back before removing the rag and choking her with a concoction that tasted of dirt and puss. The medicine burned its way down her throat before whichever adult had forced it down her throat let her go and allowed the spasms to die down.

The young girl continued to twitch on the ground for what felt like an eternity, but she knew somewhere in the back of her mind must have been only a minute or so. They never lasted much longer than that with the medicine to help.

Sounds started to come back into focus as her muscles relaxed, though still painfully knotted. She could hear her septa screeching complaints, her voice grating on the young girls ears. The old maester had hobbled over to her to give her the medicine and was now hunched over her bed to support himself. Sienna was left lying crooked on the edge of her bedpost, her breathing ragged and nose spilling with blood.

"Oh, come now", Septa Charity practically spat, collecting the young girl in her arms with little gentleness, "No need for all that fuss. No different than the thousands before this."

"You go through it", Sienna growled as the older woman placed her on the bed, her back protesting as it hit the mattress beneath her, "And then you tell me how I should feel."

The septa glared down at the girl, her brown eyes squinted and wrinkled in an ugly fashion. "Keep your comments to yourself, little princess. Since the episode has passed, we'll be informing your mother."

Sienna felt her eyes widen. She tried to push herself up, but quickly failed. "No, that's alright. You don't have to-"

"Your mother specifically requested it", the old woman simpered, her face twisting into some sort of triumphant smirk before turning back to Pycelle, who was barely paying attention to what was happening around him. "Come, Maester."

"Huh?", the old man grunted, turning his head lazily to the other woman as she gently helped him up to his full height and leading him out the door, not without Sienna noticing the smirk on the woman's face that sent her blood boiling.

The young princess glared at the door as it slammed shut with all her energy, almost as if she might force it to burst into flames. Her raven hair spilled over her face, still sticking to patches of sweat. Turning her neck with great difficulty, Sienna observed the state of her skin. Purple marks shone on the paper white of her skin like wine stains. She had no clue where they came from, but she didn't particularly care at the moment. All she knew was that she looked like a monster, some wild animal lost in the woods too long.

All she wanted to do was thrash around, destroy the room around her. It was a childish wish, one she knew wouldn't help her one bit. But that was all she wanted, and it was all that was out of reach. Sienna whimpered as she tried in vain to kick her blankets away from her, her muscles screaming in protest.

The young girl continued like that, trying to kick around while at the same time whimpering and groaning in pain. Gods, why had she been made to be so useless?

The cycle of pain and protest continued until a sliver of light cut through the murky room, causing Sienna to freeze in place. She turned her head, neck still painfully stiff, to see her mother standing in the doorway. Her beautiful golden hair flowed down her back and her green eyes fell on her daughter with a strange mixture of pain and contempt.

"Hello, my love", her mother whispered, her voice strained and uncomfortable, "How are you feeling today?"

Sienna felt herself twisting her blankets between her fingers nervously. Her mother always seemed to have that effect on her. The golden haired queen stepped softly towards the bed with grace. She stopped short of sitting atop the bed beside her daughter. Sienna's little heart yearned for her to just take a place beside her, comb her hair in her fingers like she had so long ago.

"I'm fine", muttered Sienna, swiping nervously at her clammy forehead, "Bit- uh, bit stuffy, but I can't complain."

"From what Septa Charity has told me, you've complained plenty", cooed Cersei, leaning closer to her daughter as her lips tugged into a worried frown, "You know I've sent them here to care for you. You must cooperate if you're to get any better."

Sienna opened and closed her mouth, searching for the right response. But every retort died on her tongue. Had this been the septa or Pycelle or even Tyrion, Sienna wasn't afraid to bite back, use her words where he body failed her. Gods be damned, she would act as wild as the Northerners Cersei despised. But in the presence of her mother, Sienna felt her mind go as cold as the rest of her body. No one in the world could make her feel so small.

Cersei reached out and gently swiped a lock of hair from Sienna's brow. The little girl watched as a grimace graced her mother's face at having to feel the sweat on her clammy skin. The older woman tucked the lock behind Sienna's ear gently.

"You're paler today", Cersei commented worriedly, dropping her hand back by her side, "Perhaps it's just the episode. Was it particularly bad this time?"

Sienna shifted her gaze. She didn't want to tell her mother just how bad it was. That would only mean more time spent with the maester and the horrible septa.

"Is Uncle Tyrion coming?"

The little girl's question made Cersei furrow her brows in disappointment. Her lips pressed together as she continued to look her daughter in the eyes. "I'm afraid he's busy at the moment."

Sienna squirmed slightly under the blankets, knowing that her mother wasn't telling the whole truth. "He wouldn't- he wouldn't leave me here. Where is he?"

"Darling", the queen insisted, forcing a smile on her face, "Perhaps another time. You need to rest. Besides, Uncle Jaime is nearby, I could-"

"Please", Sienna pleaded, her green eyes boring into her mother's matching ones, "I want him here. I don't feel good. Please, let him come."

Sienna watched as Cersei's hand twitched, almost as if she was about to touch her, but quickly thought better of it. The girl tried her best to keep the hurt in her chest down as her mother retreated from her once again.

"Well", she said smoothly, a practiced smile spreading across her face, "I suppose I should to speak with Maester Pycelle. He said he had some new ideas about how to help with your episodes. Some new potion or something of the sort."

As her mother turned away, Sienna almost cried out. Nearly begged her to stay, or just take her with her outside. To bask in the firelight in the halls just beyond reach. But the words died in her throat with each footstep Cersei took. Within seconds, her chance was gone as the queen shut the door behind her, sending her one last strained smile.

* * *

"Why is it you won't let me see my niece?"

Cersei rubbed at her temples in annoyance, the sound of her brother's voice grating on her already frayed nerves. Tyrion had been demanding to see her daughter for the better part of an hour, refusing to stop for even a second. She looked to Jaime for aid, but he just leaned lazily against a pillar beside him, unsure of how to insert himself into the conversation.

"For the thousandth time", Cersei gritted out, her teeth clenched, "She is weak. She needs time alone to rest."

"Time to be alone?", Tyrion spat sarcastically, rolling his ugly little eyes, "Don't you think she's had enough time alone for an entire lifetime? She needs someone there with her, someone to comfort her. She's in pain, these episodes are hard on her."

Cersei snapped her head around to her brother, her eyes narrowing. "And you think it's you she needs? You and your little… riddles and books and jokes? What good do you think any of that does except excite her to the point that she has another episode?"

"Well", the dwarf drawled, rocking back on his heels, "It's better than locking her away in the dark, alone and miserable."

Cersei could feel her blood beginning to boil. How dare he question how she cared for Sienna. Her green eyes locked in on his, almost as if she could burn him from the inside out. "I'm doing what needs to be done to keep my daughter alive."

"Just being alive isn't enough", he insisted, meeting her gaze evenly and with just as much passion, "She has to want to live. If any one of us just went to visit Poppy, it might-"

"Gods", Cersei hissed, trying her hardest not to ball her fingers into fists to attack the dwarf in front of her, "Why do you insist on calling her that insipid name?"

Tyrion barely reacted to her words, instead responding to her calmly with a raised brow. "Poppy. Like Milk of the Poppy. It's sweet and full of dreams. Not unlike your daughter, if you ever took the time to actually speak to her."

Cersei felt her face go hot with rage. She wheeled around towards Tyrion, ready to throw him across the room. "How dare you suggest-"

"Okay, that's enough", Jaime cut in, glaring at both of his siblings in turn, finally finding his voice in the situation, "This isn't helping anyone, least of all your daughter."

Cersei stopped in her tracks, held back by her brother's words. Though she continued to glare daggers at Tyrion, she let her hands relax at her sides. He was right, after all. None of this would help her daughter in any way. That was where she needed to place her focus. She flicked her gaze over to Jaime, who was looking at her seriously before averting his own gaze.

The blonde queen felt her chest twist slightly. She knew, deep down, that Jaime could never love Sienna the way she did. She wasn't his, and she never would be. Not like their other children. No, she was Cersei's daughter and hers alone.

Straightening her back, Cersei turned to her brother, face set and determined. "Very well. We'll… we'll discuss this later. For now, please let her sleep. She deserves at least that."

* * *

Strips of blood orange sunlight danced across the stone walls as Sienna lay sore and bored on her bed. She hadn't been permitted to move for over an hour, and the boredom was eating away at her brain. Maester Pycelle stood above her, absentmindedly wiping her brow with a cold cloth, causing streams of cold water to drip down her chin and neck. So she just lay there, letting the old man rigidly wipe away at her brow with no effect. What else could she do?

Time passed slowly like that until there was a knock at the door. Pycelle's hand stopped, causing the cold cloth to flop down over Sienna's eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut against the biting cold that made her eyes water. However, she could still hear the person who'd knocked enter the room, their footsteps careful and quiet. Perhaps Tyrion had finally made it, or maybe her mother had come back.

"Maester, I think it's time we talked."

Sienna's ears perked up at the voice. She recognized it, though it did not fill her with the joy Tyrion would have. Instead, the deep tones of this man's voice made her poke her head around more out of confusion than anything else.

"Uncle Jaime?" she croaked, her voice hoarse from her episode earlier. She turned her eyes to see her golden haired uncle in the doorway. He, however, did not seem to want to meet her gaze.

His matching green eyes held hers for only a few seconds. Sienna watched as he looked at her with what she could only describe as fear. That's the way it was with Jaime. He never seemed quite at ease around her, not like Tyrion. But he wasn't afraid for her like her mother. It was as if he was afraid _of_ her, whatever that meant to him. The young girl had never been able to understand anything the man did around her.

As quickly as she saw it, his gaze left her and focused on the Maester above her. His face set in a grim sort of determination as he gestured for the old man to follow him outside. Quickly, the old man nodded back, his chain clacking close to Sienna's ears and worsening her already horrendous headache. The cold cloth was left abandoned on her brow as the old man shuffled out of the room, out to meet the golden haired Lannister and closing the door behind him.

The interaction felt strange to the little girl. Sitting up and letting the cloth drop off her head towards the cot, Sienna strained her ears to listen to what was being said outside the door. Yet, try as she might, all she could hear was grainy fractures of what the men were saying. She leaned towards the door, trying in vain to catch some snippet of conversation and failed miserably.

She needed to know what they were saying. She knew it was about her, and she knew the general idea. But what if something in her condition had worsened? What if they were discussing new treatment she had to endure? She simply had to know what was going to happen to her.

Steeling herself, Sienna swung her legs off of the bed and dropped down to the cold stone floor. The cool air hit her sweaty skin and made her shiver even harder than before. She swayed on her feet slightly, the movement making her dizzy. Gathering her balance, she slowly made her way towards the door. The room swayed slightly around her until she finally stumbled to her destination. She pressed her hands against the wooden frame, holding herself up as best she could before pressing her ear to the wood.

"...telling her she can't keep this up."

The voices were muffled, but Sienna could tell that it was Jaime who spoke those words. But who was he talking about?

"I've told her several times", the croaking voice of Pycelle answered, his chains rattling around his neck, "We've exhausted all the methods we know of. There's nothing else to be done."

"She's determined to keep her alive", Jaime responded seriously, "Even if the girl is suffering in the process."

As the pieces arranged themselves in her head, Sienna deciphered that they must be talking about herself and her mother. Who else needed constant care? Something in Jaime's voice made her pause, though. He sounded heavy, tired. Like he'd had this conversation before. Sienna furrowed her brows in confusion as she pressed her ear further against the door, her cheek flat against the wood.

"Well", the old maester grumbled, the callouses in his hands grating together so loudly Sienna could hear it through the door, "Fortunately the girl won't have to suffer much longer."

The young girls eyes widened. What in seven hells did that mean? Had they found some new cure, a new sedative to keep her convulsions under control?

"What do you mean?", Jaime whispered, his voice tight, as if he were talking through a closing throat.

Pycelle coughed, a hacking sound that pounded against Sienna's ears and practically made the door rattle. "Well, I told you. We've gone through every sort of possible cure we could find. There's nothing else we can do for the girl."

"What… what do you mean, nothing else you can do?" her uncle pressed, the sound of his feet advancing on the old maester, "What are you telling me, Pycelle?"

Sienna's weak heart hammered in her chest. She shook her head, hair falling against her eyes as every possible answer ran through her head. But only one thing made sense, and it filled her with dread.

Finally, with some form of hesitation, Pycelle croaked out an answer.

"My lord, I'd be surprised if she lasted another week."

It was as if Sienna's world came to a stop. Her breath was knocked straight out of her body. With Pycelle's words ringing in her ears, she pushed herself away from the door and tried to stumble backwards towards the safety of her bed. Her breathing became heavy, her eyes wide as her panicked little heard tightened in her chest. As she made her way back, she failed to notice the old dip in the floor and fell straight onto her back, pain exploding all over as she landed on the cold stones beneath her.

Sienna made no moves to try and pry herself off of the ground. Instead, she lay staring up at the ceiling, her wide green eyes spilling over with tears she hadn't even noticed had begun. Her lungs burned as she tried in vain to breathe, shallow swallows of air ripping her throat to pieces. Finally, after so many years, it had been said. What she'd feared her whole life.

Her time had come to an end.

Finally succumbing to tears, Sienna curled onto her side let the sobs rip their way through her body. Her face became slick as she muffled her little cries, tears mixing with sweat. As she lay there, helpless and hopeless, Sienna made one final decision.

If she was to die, she was dying on her own terms.

* * *

Hours passed as Sienna waited for the castle to go to sleep. She hadn't moved an inch from her place on the floor. The cold from the stones beneath her had sunk its way into her skin, chilling her to the bone. Yet she did not even have the energy to shiver. Was this what death must feel like? She supposed she'd know soon enough.

The sounds of footsteps had faded into nothing for hours until only silence remained. Yet still, she listened close. Even the slightest tremor outside would stop her from what she was planning.

After nearly an hour of listening for any sign of movement, Sienna began to shift. She slowly lifted her aching body off of the ground, bones popping as she did. She gritted her teeth as she forced her way onto her feet. She felt the fabric of her nightgown weighing in her thin shoulders and swaying around her legs as she slowly made her way to her door. Slowly reaching out her hand, she wrapped her fingers around the cold handle and hesitantly pulled it open.

The cool draft of the corridor made her hair flutter around her face. The sensation sent a calming tremor through her body. She felt as if the breeze was caressing her face. The thought felt silly as she made her slow march through the doorstep.

Sienna looked down the hallway, trying to see if anyone was hiding in the shadows. A guard, an insomniac, anyone at all. But there was no one. Her eyes narrowed in determination as she finally stepped foot out of her room, beginning her journey down the halls.

As she made her way through, Sienna took in the shapes of the shadows around her. Each one was different, mixing with the moonlight in it's own unique way, creating new shapes and forms. Everywhere she went, the shadows grew. As she made her way down the stairs, she watched her own darkened figure mix with the inky blackness of the walls around her. The dark figures stretched around her as if trying to reach out and grab her. The thought of it made her nervous. She'd never felt safe in the dark.

And yet, through every hallway, every staircase she stumbled her way down, Sienna couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. That some pair of eyes was taking in her every move. She looked around her, trying to catch anyone at all, but there was no one to be seen.

Shaking off the creeping sensation, she finally made it to the doors to the garden. The place was unfamiliar. She'd never been permitted this far from her room. Sienna stopped just short of the exit, her little heart beating faster. If she kept going, she would never return. She knew what lay beyond, and it terrified her.

Perhaps she didn't need to do this. Perhaps there was something that could be done for her. Some magical cure that was just about to be discovered. She tried her hardest to rationalize with herself, give herself another option. But she saw none. Just a dark room or a dark night. The choice was simple.

Taking a deep breath, Sienna held out her pale hands and eased the doorway open, letting in the night air in.

With a slight gasp, the dark haired girl took in the world outside with wide eyes. Gods, it was beautiful. She'd never been allowed out, but just seeing before her made her believe the beauty was worth the risk. The inky black sky stretched out for infinity, shielding the soft, green grass beneath her. Purple and pink flower were closed, asleep for the night as the moon's glow danced it's way across everys surface in sight. Sienna couldn't believe what was before her. There was simply no better place to die.

As if in a dream, Sienna stepped out of the castle's protection and into the garden. Her bare feet sunk into the dirt, mud squishing between her toes pleasantly. The soft grass tickled the bottoms of her feet, sending little shivers through her legs. She giggled slightly at the sensation.

Gods, it felt beautiful. All of it. The whole world made her feel as if some part of her was being let loose, some secret bit that had been locked away to keep her sane was being set free.

With eyes still wide and drinking in every detail of the world around her, Sienna reached her long fingers out into the air before her, almost as if she was trying to touch something that wasn't there. The moonlight reflected off of her skin, making her seem even paler. The cool air wrapped around her fingers and made her feel invincible.

She stood at the threshold, squeezing her eyes shut so tight it hurt. Her hand was still gently reaching for something that wasn't there. She took deep breaths, preparing herself for what she was about to do. Fear grew in her belly as she readied herself, but she couldn't stop now. There was nothing left to survive for.

With one final breath, Sienna bolted forward in a full sprint. Her muscles burned in protest but she pressed forward. The gardens felt endless as she kept going, her breath becoming uneven. Her chest burned, air becoming harder to access. Her hair whipped around her and fell in her eyes, keeping the world from her. She knew full well that this kind of exertion was going to bring on a whole new set of convulsions, and that was what she intended to happen.

She turned her head slightly as her legs carried her forward, taking in the garden zooming past. The colors blurred together in a beautiful painting of greens and blues. While her head was turned, her toes caught on a patch of dewy grass that sent her falling violently to the ground. She flew down, shoulder hitting the ground so hard she feared it might have been broken out of place. Sienna rolled through the grass, the friction ripping skin from her body and staining the rest green. As she slowly came to a stop, she felt the telltale signs of burning and twitches in the backs of her shoulder blades. It was time.

Sienna lay shivering and sweating in the soft earth, desperately digging her fingers into the ground, letting the cool mud soothe her burning skin. If she was to die, she wanted to die in the moonlight.

Her spasms began to increase and breathing became harder. Her muscles felt as if they were ripping themselves from her bones. The world around the princess began to swirl. It was almost beautiful, the ground and the sky mixing together into some sort of unnatural painting. She did not feel as if death was there, but that it must be coming for her.

Yet, through the pain and the gasping, something made her ears perk up involuntarily. To her absolute horror, Sienna heard footsteps coming from behind her, rustling the grass and blocking the breeze. She couldn't decipher who it was, especially in her state. Her blood pounded in her ears, sending an ache like no other through her head. But she could feel them, whoever they were. They were the eyes that had been watching her in the halls and filling her with dread.

No. They wouldn't steal this night from her.

"No", she whimpered, trying to make herself smaller as her body shook and seized, "No n-no no. L-leave me."

Whoever was behind her clearly ignored her pleas. A pair of soft hands slid underneath her knees and shoulders, ready to take her away. This person was ready to take her only choice away from her, and she wasn't about to give it up without a fight. Sienna began to thrash around like a wild animal, only adding to her spasms. She could feel blood pouring from her nose, dripping so far it reached her neck. She dug her fingers deeper into the earth, trying in vain to shake the man off and claw her way back towards the ground.

"No!", she screeched, kicking her skinny legs as hard as she could muster, "Nooooo!"

"Calm yourself, my lady", whispered a voice, soft as silk, "We wouldn't want to wake the whole castle tonight."

The man managed to pry her away from the ground and gently pulled her up to his chest. Sienna had never been held so close to someone before. She continued to try and kick her way out of the man's grip, but she was too tired and her body ached from her spasms, which were now calming, much to her despair.

"My name is Lord Varys", the voice soothed, soft and genuine, "I'm not here to hurt you, princess."

Squeezing herself into a tight, twitching ball, Sienna finally gave in and looked up at the man who had stolen her long night. He was short, though not as short as Uncle Tyrion, and fat. So fat he felt like the cushions beneath her mattress. His chest felt soft and molded underneath her skinny form. He had wrapped himself in some sort of silk dress. His eyes were sharp, looking down at her as if she was a riddle he was trying to work out. His gaze made Sienna feel vulnerable, as if she had been cut open and laid bare before him.

Sienna sneered up at the man and curled up tighter, trying to touch as little of him as possible. He didn't deserve her interest. He'd stolen something too precious for her to comprehend, and he seemed to care very little for it. His chest shook slightly with a chuckle, presumably at her weak attempt at anger, as he walked across the gardens and back into the cold castle.

The shadows remained, Sienna noted. The dark figures stretched further and clawed their way through the light.

This man- Varys's- footsteps didn't echo like most people's. THis caught Sienna's interest. She knew every pair of footsteps in the castle. She knew every person and what they sounded like from behind closed doors, but she knew nothing of this man. Perhaps he wore special shoes. He seemed to glide across the stone floors like one of the Dornish water creatures Uncle Tyrion's book taught her about. His calm, careful demeanor made Sienna nervous. No one was this calm, especially after catching her where she was. Septa Charity would have been sent into hysterics, and Pycelle would have been blubbering all the way through, completely useless as usual. But this man was different. He simply carried her away, as if he knew what she had been planning all along.

To Sienna's surprise, he took her straight to her room. No detours, no visit to Pycelle to make sure she was functioning properly. Just a simple trip back to her door. Opening the door with little sound, Lord Varys glided across the room and set her gently on her plush bed. Sienna, to her dismay, unconsciously welcomed the warmth of her blankets as the man wrapped them around her small body. His face was soft, smiling down at her as he worked the blankets around her shoulders.

Sienna looked him over, seeing a fresh bloodstain in the shoulder of his silk gown. She unconsciously lifted her fingers to her nose, realizing that the stain must have been from her.

Satisfied with his work, Lord Varys began to turn away from her and towards the door with no other words towards the princess. The silence alone set Sienna on edge. It felt as if he was placing her somewhere he needed her, like a game piece. And she was nothing of the sort.

Something about the man was intriguing, almost scary. The air around him seemed to be different, sweeter. It smelled of perfume and tasted like sugar. Everything was somewhere between real and fiction. Sienna couldn't let him leave yet. Not without some answers.

"Why didn't you leave me out there?", croaked Sienna, stopping the man in his tracks, "My mother wouldn't blame you if you left me to die. She'd be happy."

She was still angry. Her natural frown deepened into a sneer at the sight of the man, but he was still interesting. Why _had_ he taken the time to seek her out? How had he even known that she was out there in the first place?

His soft smile curled higher on his fat face. His hands folded together beneath the fabric of his sleeves as he turned back towards the weak young girl.

"Do you truly believe that, my lady?" he inquired softly, keeping his hands folded beneath the sleeves of his gown. Sienna briefly wondered if he had anything hidden inside those massive sleeves.

The dark haired girl opened her mouth to respond, but the spiteful reply died on her tongue. She knew the answer already, and she simply couldn't' say it out loud.

"My dear", he said softly, "To let you die tonight would be such a waste. There is hope for you yet."

"What hope?", spat Sienna, curling into her blankets protectively, "I'm going to die soon, anyway. That's what Pycelle said. There's nothing else they can do for me."

"And you believed him?", smirked Lord Varys, "We both know Pycelle has very little true knowledge on how to help you, but there are others. Myself included."

Sienna's brow furrowed, confused. Why would the maester be wrong? Lord Varys took another soft, silent step towards the princess, eyes boring into her. "What do you mean?"

Lord Varys kept his face calm, barely flinching against the little girl's brash questioning. "There are more people in this world who treat maladies than maesters. I happen to know a few who could help with your particular ailments."

Sienna furrowed her brows in confusion. What was this man saying, and what was he trying to get out of this?

"Why are you helping me?", Sienna questioned, her face falling with disappointment and confusion, "Are you trying to win favor with my mother?"

"My dear", he responded simply, "I have all the favor I need with the queen. No need for such flatteries."

"Then why?", the girl demanded, feeling her temper flare as the man looked at her with such gentleness and calculation that she wanted to hurl a book at his face, "Why help me? What do you possibly gain?"

That's when Sienna saw it. A flicker. A slight shift in Lord Varys's face that creased his brow. Then, in an instant, it was gone. As if he'd never had to think anything over at all. The change caught her attention, making her wonder what was happening in the man's bald head.

"My princess", he said quietly, yet with such conviction that it made Sienna's blood chill, "I wouldn't count you out of this game just yet. There's potential in you, despite what your queen mother might think. I've always known that great men cast shadows. And a very little girl could still cast a very large shadow."

Sienna's heart stopped in that instant, her eyes widening. What was this man playing at? No one had ever said something like that about her with such confidence. Not even Tyrion. He looked at her as if she were something important, some piece of a puzzle, some mysterious thing that he was trying to decipher. It seemed, impossibly, this Lord Varys was placing bets on her. He believed in her, in something more hidden inside her.

What in seven hells did he think was there to bet on?

The lord smiled, a soft sort of gesture that cut through his perfumed exterior. "Do not tremble in the darkness, princess. There is power in it. One must simply learn not to fear it."

Then, with a small bow, Lord Varys glided out of the room and shut the door with a soft _thud._

Sienna was alone again, the darkness wrapping itself around her small body like it always did. Lord Varys' words rang in her ears. His perfume lingered in her room, a sickly sweet reminder of what he''d left behind. Through the dark, she could make out where he'd been standing, She lifted her head, taking in her room as if for the first time. Shadows crawled across the walls, making claw marks in the moonlight. But this time, the darkness wasn't quite so horrible, the shadows not quite so scary.

There was hope in the shadows.


	3. This Is Not Your Home

"Send for only the best. If we're to have a funeral, might as well make it a little more than a dull affair."

Sienna twisted her body in the dark, turning her ear slightly closer to the thin slit between the wall and the paining she was hidden inside. The thin strip of light illuminated a stripe across her face as she peered inside the throne room. She'd discovered this secret passage nearly two years ago, a new point to keep herself hidden and away from her claustrophobic room. Apparently, it had been installed by Jaehaerys Targaryen centuries ago, a possible escape route in the corner of the throne room behind a rather large painting in case of an uprising. A smart move, Sienna conceded, and a particularly useful passage for her.

For the moment, she was eavesdropping on Littlefinger plan Jon Arryn's funeral, as there was little else to do. The thin man's slick way of speaking had always interested her, the way he commanded a room from the back was particularly fascinating. She wondered if she would ever have the chance to speak with him in person.

It had been nearly six years since that night Lord Varys had carried her back to her room, giving her wisdom she'd carried with her since. And he'd been true to his word as well. The very next morning, Pycelle hobbled into her room, announcing that he'd found a mixture that could help alleviate her spasms. The only problem was that it did little for her weak body, and she had to take the mixture every morning and evening, though that was manageable. Sienna was simply grateful to be alive at all.

And yet, here she was, still having to hide away in the dark. Her mother was still strictly refusing to let her outside the castle, and always had someone following her if she ever left her room. She insisted it was for Sienna's safety, which didn't seem too far from the truth.

Listening idly to Littlefinger prattle on about fancy cakes that must be served at the funeral, Sienna grew bored rather quickly. Most of the interesting conversations she could spy on had gone away the moment her father had packed away the family to go to Winterfell to ask Ned Stark to be his new Hand.

A small part of Sienna knew that she wasn't supposed to know that, especially because her mother didn't yet. But that council meeting had been particularly interesting, with many impatient lords and her brash father stomping around, declaring himself the only voice on the matter. It had been so funny to watch such powerful men scowl like petulant children who'd lost their toys. The mere memory brought a smirk to her face.

Yet, as a result, she was left with little to interest her in the castle. No shouting matches from her father with the small council, no passive aggressive mother complaining at the slightest grievance. Even her uncle Tyrion was gone, and with him every ounce of fun left in this wretched place.

The raven haired girl let out a sigh, deciding that this wasn't worth listening to. She swore if she heard another remark about the importance of appearance she might claw out her eyes. Steeling herself for the journey back towards the passageways, Sienna stepped away from the back of the painting and turned away. She reached her long, pale fingers towards the wall, searching out the indents in the dark that would lead her where she needed to go. She'd carved them herself soon after she discovered the passages, taking months to map the area as best she could. Her fingers brushed over a deep arrow pointing her to the left, giving her the direction she needed towards the kitchens.

She followed her self made directions, keeping her pale fingers on the walls beside her. She knew the feeling so well, she might as well make the journey with her eyes closed. The air around her was damp and cold, with very little room for movement besides the forward motion of walking. The cold made Sienna's skin clammy and tinted it blue. After years spent secretly roaming the passages at night, the darkness had stripped her skin of it's last ounce of color, leaving her paler than a ghost.

"Fuck", she muttered, rubbing her left hand across her right shoulder, trying to rub in any warmth she could.

Finally, she reached her destination. Her hand pressed gently against the false pillar that stood in the kitchens. Before she opened it, Sienna strained her ears and listened for anyone in the room. She listened close, but only heard the slight drip of water hitting the floorboards. Satisfied that no one was around, Sienna gently pushed the hidden door open, slipping through the slim opening easily. She landed quietly on her feet, ankles cracking as she did. She stretched up to her full height, her long legs crackling and popping from the exertion. She internally cursed whatever god had made her grow so tall so fast in the last year.

Her skin immediately flushed with warmth, the climate changing considerably from the frigid one she'd just exited. The ovens were running, cooking something for whatever lord had demanded his own personal feast. Her worn-in boots scuffed against the ground and she padded her way over to the pantries. She took in the scents of fresh baked breads and spiced apples as she went. She brushed a clump of heavy, limp hair away from her clammy cheeks, tugging the thick strands behind her ear with some difficulty. As she passed through the room, she snatched several snacks and stuffed them in her pants pockets. Her old tunic hung limp on her bony shoulders as her clothes became laden with food.

The silence of the room felt heavy on her skin, but Sienna was used to it by now. All she had to do was wait for her family to return, and she could go back to hiding in the walls, watching from afar. It wasn't so bad, anyway.

* * *

"Why's your mother so dead set on us looking pretty for the king?" asked Jon, leaning against the stone wall behind him.

Jon, Theon and Robb all stood in the washing room, dreading the inevitable grooming on the orders of Lady Stark. Robb was the first victim, already being sheared and shaved by Tommy, much to his chagrin. The room was far too hot for Jon's liking. He'd rather be out in the courtyard sparring with Robb. But here he was, standing half-naked, waiting to get his hair cut like some southern lady.

"It's for the queen I bet", observed Theon, with his usual weasel-like smirk, "I hear she's a sleek little mink."

"I heard the prince is a right royal prick", cut in Robb, getting his face rubbed clean.

Before he even formed a response, Jon knew Theon was going to make some sort of joke about the prince's manhood. Predictable as ever.

"Think of all the southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick" he said with a smile. Jon didn't laugh, finding his joke lackluster at best, but it seemed Robb had found some semblance of humor in the Ironborn's remark since he began to chuckle. Once Robb was done getting pretty, Tommy pushed him out of the chair. Robb stumbled towards Jon with a smirk.

"Shear him good, Tommy", he drawled, giving Jon a good slap on the back, "He's never met a girl he likes better than his own hair."

Tommy pushed Jon down into the chair as Robb and Theon laughed at him. Jon wouldn't say this out loud, but he most definitely was not happy about his hair being cut. It was his most Stark-like feature, and it made him feel just a little bit closer to his father.

Seven Hells, he sounds just like a girl.

"Or maybe your mother's trying to get you all pretty for the princess, Robb" said Theon, crossing his arms over his torso and smirking at the heir to Winterfell, "A royal wedding would make her burst on the spot."

Robb stood there, gagging slightly. The only princess visiting was the golden one, Myrcella, who only just reached ten years.

"No", spat Robb, gagging, "She's just a child. Barely ten years on her, you sick bastard."

"Well, there's always the Sickly Princess", smirked Theon, waggling his eyebrows at the two other boys.

Robb rolled his eyes, unsurprised at his friend's antics. Jon, on the other hand, glared over at the ironborn. The joke was old, and it had very little humor left in it.

"What do we even know about this princess?" griped Jon. He hadn't heard much that could be counted on as real about the oldest royal child. Just bits and pieces of rumors that spread through the seven kingdoms all the way to the Winterfell kitchens. He couldn't help but feel a little bad for the girl. No one really knew her. But he didn't feel too bad, she was a princess after all. Probably spoiled since birth.

"What's to know?", responded Theon, "No one's ever seen her. I heard the queen has to lock her in her room because she has two heads."

"No, I heard she has three arms", responded Robb, crossing his arms over his chest. The two boys chuckled and Jon felt the tug of the shears under his hair.

The Sickly Princess was a mystery the Stark children found particularly interesting. Jon would hear them discussing what she must look like, what must have been wrong with her to keep her so far from the sight of anyone outside the Red Keep. Most theories made her out to look like a monster. Three heads, no tongue, eels for hair, he'd heard it all. Sansa came up with particularly cruel theories, seeming to revel in the idea that she bested a princess in beauty.

Jon, unlike his siblings, did not enjoy talking about the princess. He didn't care if she was a deformed demon or just some sick girl. She was just some faceless royal who he would never meet, so what was the point in wasting time or thought on her. He had other things to focus on.

"Even looking like that, she'd still probably never let you bed her", shot Jon from his seat.

Robb hooted, slapping Theon on the shoulder. The Ironborn scowled at Jon, which only made his more satisfied. Getting under Greyjoy's skin always made Jon feel good. He needed to be knocked down a few pegs every once in awhile, and Jon was more than happy to oblige.

"Doesn't matter", remarked Theon, elbowing Robb in the side, "She isn't going to come. She doesn't go anywhere."

Jon shrugged, not particularly caring about the conversation. Soon enough, the topic changed and none of the men in the room paid any mind to the mysterious girl they would never meet anyway.

* * *

Sienna lay on her back, long legs propped up against the wall as she held a thick envelope in up front of her face. The morning light was beginning to creep through the windows, staining the walls orange. Her thick hair was fanned out around her on the stone floor of the hallway. No one was around to pass by or yell at her to go back to her room. She'd been sure to check that everyone was on the other side of the castle putting together preparations for the funeral.

Turning the envelope over in her hands, Sienna fondly recognized the impatient scrawl across the front addressed to her. Tyrion was always too busy to write anything legible.

Reaching to her side and feeling around blindly, Sienna wrapped her fingers around her little flask. Without bothering to look, she tipped the flask over into her mouth and poured her medicine down her throat, resisting the urge to gag. The concoction tasted like rotten eggs, burning her throat as it went down. Her eyes squeezed shut against the flavor, forcing herself to swallow the thick concoction and coughing as it went down, familiar with the whole routine.

Sienna turned over to spit the remainder of the medicine's flavor onto the ground before turning back over onto her back, sliding her fingers through the seal and ripped open the paper, retrieving the letter inside. She unfolded it up in front of her face, the paper dipping down slightly and brushing against her sharp nose. The dark blue ink was smeared in parts, the scrawled writing barely comprehensible to anyone who wasn't familiar with the style. Sienna's green eyes roamed over the page, taking in each word carefully. Her chest pinched slightly, hoping for good news. Her uncle's last letter had detailed the fall of one of the Stark children, and she'd written back immediately, demanding to know if the boy would survive.

 _Poppy,_

 _I'm sure you're hoping for good news about the Stark boy, but I'm afraid there's nothing to tell. He is still unconscious, and his legs fare no better. His mother has not left his side since the fall, which is to be expected. I've given my sympathies, as was expected of me, but none of the Starks care much for my sadness. I can't blame them, of course. I can blame Joffrey, however. The insolent prick refused to give his sympathies to the Starks until I had to resort to… possibly treasonous means. I do hope he remembers this in the future, however. It would do the boy good to have some sense slapped into him._

 _I'm now off to the Wall, like we discussed. As promised, I'll bring back a souvenir for you. I'm thinking something along the lines of a dagger, something wielded by one of those heroes you love so much. I'm accompanied by Ned Stark's bastard, who could rival even you in brooding and sullen looks, though he seems to lack your penchant for pissing off everyone in the general area. In the best way, I reassure you. Nonetheless, the journey looks dull due to the dazzling conversation given so far by my travel companions._

 _My deepest apologies for being brief. We leave at first light, and you know how I need my beauty sleep. I will write again as soon as I can. There aren't many posts from here to the Wall, unfortunately. Your parents are on their way back to the Keep, so prepare. Be sure to stock as many cakes as you can in your room before your mother gets back. I'll send you every detail of Castle Black I can gather. One day, I'll take you there myself. I swear it._

 _Wish me luck as I piss off the edge of the world._

 _The best uncle you have,_

 _Tyrion_

Sienna ran her fingers over the writing, feeling the imprints deep in the page from Tyrion's heavy handed writing. Her chest felt heavy at the thought that the poor Stark boy was crippled for life. She refused, however, to think that he was doomed to die. Many had said the same about here, yet here she was. She was sure that the boy could pull through, if given the right help.

The princess's fingers twitched slightly, itching to reach for some ink and parchment and dream up a way to help the boy. She'd lost her trust in Maesters long ago, perhaps something she could dream up could…

But no. She knew nothing about things like this. Simple diseases, standard breaks. Those were things she understood, had mended on herself once or twice. She had no clue how to repair a destroyed body, let alone help a young boy come to terms with the loss of his legs. There was nothing she could do. Not for the first time did she wish she could run straight through the doors of the Red Keep and make her way out into the real world, but it was a fantasy.

Sienna also felt a deep sadness at the temporary loss of letters from her uncle. He was her only contact to the outside world, and he'd always given her hope that she'd make it out herself someday.

Pressing the letter to her chest, Sienna closed her eyes and dreamed of what the road to the Wall must look like.

* * *

Cersei stood at the edge of the Stark boy's room, just out of sight of Lady Stark. She knew what she must do, go comfort the grieving mother, appear sympathetic. She knew the role she was required to play, especially to divert attention from herself, but she took little pleasure in it. Finally stepping through the door, her footsteps alerted Lady Stark, who scrambled up from her chair.

"Please", Cersei responded gently, nodding her head for the Lady to sit back down.

Catelyn ran her hands over her skirt, her pale face blushing slightly. "I would've dressed, your grace."

"This is your home", the golden haired queen stated, walking towards the bed, "I am your guest."

Cersei let her eyes fall on the boy in the bed, his soft face passive and barely breathing. Her face remained impassive, knowing that what had been done had been necessary. However, that was not what would keep her secret safe.

"Handsome one, isn't he?" she commented, keping her eyes on the boy, "I understand your pain, you know."

"My queen", Lady Stark sighed, falling back into her chair with a defeated look on her face, "With deepest respect, you do not know what this is like."

Cersei had to restrain herself from verbally lashing back at the woman. She had no clue about how true the queen's statement was, and she had no right to tell her she knew nothing of a mother's pain.

"My first child, Sienna, she was born… fragile."

"I never knew", Lady Stark whispered, her sallow face lighting up slightly at the little bond between herself and the queen.

"No one does", Cersei responded, pressing her lips together, "For her own protection, I've kept the details to myself."

Cersei chose her words carefully. She knew she needed to take suspicions away from herself, but this… this story may be too close. But she had managed to get Lady Stark to look up, sad eyes boring into her like a child desperate for a story.

"She was born and I was so happy", the queen continued, her voice barely restraining itself from cracking, "My very own child. She was so beautiful, with her green eyes and tufts of dark hair. She came out fighting, kicking and screaming, refusing to be held by anyone but me. A true lion from the beginning. And I didn't let her go, not for one second. For three days she was held so close to me I feared we might melt together. I fed her from my breast, sang little songs. Gods, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."

"She sounds incredible", Lady Stark whispered, braving a small smile.

The small smile that had grown on Cersei's face evaporated in a second. Her memories moved from their once bright and happy beginnings to the truth of what had become of her beloved daughter.

"But on the third day", Cersei continued, her chest beginning to ache, "I set her down in her cradle. I was so tired, I needed to sleep and she was perfectly fine. She didn't even cry as she was laid down. She never cried, the little thing. Not even an hour later I came to the side of her crib and saw her face had turned blue. She had stopped breathing. Her chest was shaking, her little arms thrashing about like someone had set her blood on fire. Gods, she was so small. I screamed for the Maester. I didn't leave her side for weeks. They told me she had been born wrong, that she had been infected while still inside of me. My own daughter had been poisoned inside of me."

"That wasn't your fault, my queen", Lady Stark whispered, reaching her hand gently over Cersei's, causing the queen to stiffen.

"She lives, thank the Gods", Cersei whispered, holding back the burning behind her eyes, "But she is still so sick, so fragile. The medicines only work so much, despite how much she fights me on the issue. I keep her room as comfortable as I can, keep her educated. I have no intentions of letting her rot away in the dark like some animal. It pains me every time I see her, but she is still my child."

The golden haired woman felt her words stick in her throat. There was a burning behind her eyes she wouldn't let Lady Stark see. Yet every mention of her daughter brough Cersei great pain. Her little lifeline, her very first child was trapped away in a body that never ceased to try and kill her, and there was nothing Cersei could do.

"I'll pray to the Mother every morning and night", she stated firmly, holding in the tears and hardening her face, "Perhaps this time she'll listen."

With that, Cersei turned away from the boy she broke and stepped out the door, one solitary tear slipping away from her grasp and down her cheek.

* * *

"Mother, I swear, I'm fine."

Sienna stood at the foot of her bed, pleading with her mother. The royal caravan had arrived only a day prior, and already Cersei was berating her. She'd found the dark haired girl in the hallway, only a few minutes after she'd exited a tunnel behind the Keep's walls. Luckily, she hadn't seen her exiting the tunnels, just wandering, and immediately sprung into action, dragging her daughter back to her room. Sienna, for all her boasting and anger, couldn't bring herself to fight her mother, though every part of her body yearned to do so.

Instead, her mother looked at her with her wide green eyes and shook her head. "If I'd known you were dashing around the castle- I should have that nurse sent to the dungeons for this."

"I was just walking through the halls", Sienna insisted, her head ducked and shoulders hunched nervously, "I promise I took my medicine beforehand, and I was careful-"

"Careful?", Cersei huffed, spine straightening in anger, "What's careful? You risking another episode to what? Prance around the Red Keep? It's as if you're trying to get yourself killed."

Sienna felt her scowl deepen on her face, cheeks heating up in anger. "Yes, mother. I'm trying to kill myself. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Don't you dare joke about that", her mother spat, golden hair falling in tendrils around her face, "After everything I've done for you, don't you ever jest about that."

Sienna curled in even tighter on herself, her hair falling over her face like a curtain, shielding her from her mother. She took an involuntary step back, her legs hitting the edge of her bed with a thud. The room was suddenly drowned in silence. Neither woman knew what there was to say. Sienna stood shock still, her muscles locked in place like a scared animal. Yet anger still boiled inside her like poison. Cersei, on the other hand, stood tall, staring at her daughter with narrowed eyes, infuriatingly calm. With a sigh, her mother shook her head, her face falling into a scowl.

"Well", she sighed, clasping her hands in front of her torso, "I suppose that's enough for the day. I have important matters to discuss with Jaime. I'll leave you to… whatever it is you wish, I suppose."

"I wish to leave this fucking room", Sienna grumbled under her breath, brushing her hair out of her face.

Cersei stopped mid-step, her back stiff. Sienna felt her heartbeat speed up as the queen turned around, her face stony. "What was that?"

Frozen in place, the dark haired girl felt her whole body slump in defeat. "Nothing, mother."

Casting her daughter one last glare, Cersei turned back around, gliding out of the room with a grace Sienna could never dream to match. The thud of the door closing made her slump back down onto her bed, feeling completely drained. Her body shuddered with fear, feeling the chill her mother left behind still hanging in the air.

She wished deeply that Tyrion was here. He'd always been on her side, even on occasion able to convince her mother that she deserved to have a few spare moments out in the halls, which was a miracle unto itself. Now she was left without him for another week while he returned from the wall. It had been nearly two weeks since his last letter, and she missed his company dearly.

Reaching over to her nightstand, Sienna snatched up his last letter and held it up to her face. She reread every word, taking in every ounce of whatever comfort it could give her. Her shivers died down as she ran her hands over the ink. Each word described the Wall, it's heroes, how he would take her there someday. Her heart swelled at the idea.

Sienna squeezed her eyes shut, thinking hard and trying to picture what Castle Black must look like. Her knowledge of the books and her uncle's letters blended together to paint a beautiful picture. Snow so deep she might sink in completely, sunlight glinting off the icy wall. Trees taller than any in King's Landing. Black clad men with strong, heroic faces. It was all a beautiful picture in her mind.

Sienna pressed the letter to her chest, letting out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. She knew what Tyrion would say to her mother now, and she knew what she wanted to do. No one was keeping her locked up in this room, even if she had to hide away in the castle walls to do it.

She waited for hours for the sun to set, knowing that there would most certainly be a guard to spot her out in the halls if she snuck out during daylight. That move would be idiotic. However, once the sun set, she got to work on sneaking out to her first entrance. First, however, she switched clothes, tugging on one of her many dirty white tunics and brown trousers and lacing on her boots to make the travel more comfortable. She glanced over at her nightstand, looking at the little flasks of medicine she'd need to take soon. Shrugging, she decided she could take it once she got back. It wouldn't make much of a difference, anyway.

Slipping out her door, the pale girl looked both ways down the hall before quietly making her way down the hall towards a large green and orange tapestry. She clutched the embroidered fabric and pulled it aside, revealing a door that matched the walls around it, only identifiable by the thin slits that surrounded it. Sienna easily pushed it open and slipped through into the passage behind it.

She gagged on the dusty air, spitting onto the ground to rid her tongue of the layer of dust that had travelled into her mouth. The last slivers of light disappeared as she delved deeper inside, keeping her hands on the walls and lightly grazing to find her indents. Her calloused fingers scratched against the rough stone as she made her way through, swiping away cobwebs with her free hand. Sienna carefully padded her way through, making sure to make no sound as she made her way towards the west wing of the Keep. Most people consorted closer to the south wing, but she knew the library in the west was generally abandoned and allowed her to spend hours alone, reading everything she could in the open space.

Sienna listened as her footsteps barely echoed around her as she reached her destination. She perked her ears up, listening for any whispers. So far, nothing. She huffed, bored with the silence around her as she made her way towards one of the entrances to the west library. She carelessly pressed her ear to the crack, making sure she heard no voices before pushing the entrance open and slipping down to the carpeted ground of the library.

The sound of her boots landing was absorbed by the carpet, keeping each footstep carefully quiet. Sienna let out a sigh of relief, throwing her hair back over her shoulders as she took in the wide open space around her. It may be quiet, and devoid of people in general, but it was hers. She'd chosen this space as her own, and no one challenged her on it. She quietly made her way through the stacks of books, brushing her fingers over the spines of each one she passed, looking for something new to read.

As she came closer to the history section, Sienna heard something odd. She froze, listening closely to the air around her. The slightest whisper could be heard a few rows beside her, tickling her ears tauntingly.

Sienna knew that she should turn around, disappear into the passage and keep herself hidden. But something in her chest tugged her closer to the whispering, her curiosity peaked and need to see another person insatiable. In the end, her curiosity won out as she slowly made her way closer to the noise, careful to keep her steps as silent as possible.

"...safe for now", she heard one voice whisper.

One of the princess' dark brows quirked up. She knew this voice, though not as well as some others. This was Jaime. What in seven hells was he doing in the library this late at night?

Sienna finally got close enough to peek through the shelves and look in on the conversation. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that her uncle was standing strangely close to her mother, her dressing gown wrapped loosely around her. His hands rested on her shoulders and his chin was lifted confidently in that way she'd only ever seen him be able to pull off.

Her mother, in contrast, stood as stiff as she had in her room only hours earlier. Her golden hair lay limp on her shoulders, the braids from earlier loosened and framing her sharp face. The moonlight made her look oddly sallow and pale, something Sienna had never pictured her mother as. The image felt like something she wasn't meant to see. This only made her more curious, leaning forward a little more to get a better view.

"Safe?", Cersei whispered back, looking troubled, "How can we ensure that Ned Stark remains clueless? Him and his stubborn honor will be the death of us. And our children."

Their… children?

Jaime gripped Cersei tighter, looking serious for a flash. "I won't let anything happen to our children. Besides, we have a defense, should the need arise. There is no question Sienna is Robert's child, we can say that the other three simply took after you."

Sienna stood shock still, feeling her blood run cold as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

"He may leave Sienna, even try to throne her if Robert is taken care of", her mother hissed, her brows drawn together as she stepped closer to Jaime, "But what of the others? Don't you think Ned Stark would want some sort of compensation for his own son?"

"Stark isn't the type for revenge", Jaime reassured her easily, his arms slinking around Cersei in a way that made bile rise in Sienna's stomach, "Besides, we've always had to deal with this. We've always danced on the knife's edge, and we've always come back alive."

The dark haired girl's heart sunk and stomach retched as she watched Jaime's hand sneak it's way up to her mother's jaw, drawing it up to his own and capturing her lips with his.

Without thinking, Sienna yelped and tripped back, trying to block her sight of the scene. Her shoulders knocked into the shelf behind her, sending several books clattering to the ground. The girl froze, her heart hammering as the sound echoed throughout the room.

The sounds of Jaime and her mother stopped. To her horror, Sienna realized that they had heard her.

"Jaime", Cersei hissed, her voice shaking slightly.

At her mother's words, Sienna heard the sound of metal against metal scraping together. Jaime had unsheathed his sword. And Sienna didn't need to see them to realize they knew she was there.

Sienna whipped her head around, ready to run towards the passage when she realized that she was on the complete opposite side of the room. There was no way she could make it there unseen. Her ears pounded with the quiet rustling of Jaime's boots on the carpet.

"Show yourself", Jaime's voice echoed, his words easy and deadly at the same time.

Feeling her breath hitch in her throat, Sienna looked over her shoulder to see that the main entrance wasn't that far away. Only a few rows. Without giving herself time to think or the sense to move quietly, the dark haired girl scrambled over herself and bolted towards the door, knocking a few more books over in the process like a fool.

As she ran, she heard Jaime's footsteps speed up behind her, causing her to run faster. She ran chest first into the door, the wood handles smacking together and sending more echoes through the room. With shaking hands, Sienna wrenched the door open and threw herself through it, nearly tumbling to the ground as she did. Instead, she desperately kept her balance and kept running, feeling her body already beginning to give out as she did.

Sienna's chest began to burn. She had never run this fast before. The room around her began to shift under her feet, but the pain could wait. As she rounded a corner, she turned her head for a fraction of a second, only to see Jaime stalking behind her.

He'd seen her.

Her green eyes widened and involuntary tears wrenched their way out of her eyes as her boots slapped against the stones. She turned another corner, trying in vain to find a room with a passage, but she was far from her usual areas, unsure of what lay behind each door. She heard Jaime's boots not that far behind her, sending a rush of fear through her stomach

He didn't call out to her, try to scare her with words. That was never his way, to begin with. Ande she realized he couldn't alert the castle to what was happening, lest they ask why he was trying to kill the princess.

The _only_ princess.

No, she couldn't think about that now. She had to focus on getting the hell out of this place.

The hallways blurred together as she ran. Bursts of dark blues and browns blinded her as she tried to keep herself from falling face first onto the flagstones beneath her. The hard ground never seemed so deadly before. Suddenly, out of the back of her mind, an idea came. The west wing wasn't too far from the throne room, and she knew a way back from there.

Pushing herself even harder, Sienna quickly changed course and made her way towards the throne room. She could taste blood drip from her nose all the way into her mouth. The burn behind her nose and eyes was becoming unbearable as she pushed her body to it's absolute limit. She nearly spit the blood out, but quickly gagged it down her throat. If she spit the blood out, it would leave a trail.

Finally reaching the room, the dark haired girl dove into it, her feet echoing throughout the large room before she came to a screeching halt in front of the large red and black painting at the right end of the room.

It hadn't saved the Targaryens, but it might just save her.

Quickly turning her head, Sienna checked to see if Jaime was near before shoving the painting aside. She slipped through the small opening before pulling the cover back into place, plunging herself in darkness.

Taking a few careful steps back, Sienna waited. Her chest pounded so hard that she worried that Jaime would hear the thump of her heart. Covering her mouth so no one could hear her breathe, Sienna strained her ears to listen for her uncle's footsteps. She could feel blood sticking between her fingers from her leaking nose, staining her skin red. After a few paralyzing seconds of silence, Sienna nearly jumped at the sound of careful footfalls. She could barely hear Jaime, but she could decipher the sound. He always sounded like a hunter stalking his prey.

The soft steps stayed even as they began to pass the painting. Sienna felt her muscles shake as she gripped onto her mouth harder, keeping the sound of her breaths covered. Tears welled in her eyes. This could be the moment he found her. The moment she died.

Finally, Jaime passed the portrait and his footfalls became softer as he stalked down the hall. Sienna let out a shaky breath as she began to retreat. She slid her hands up the wall to try and find the indents on the stone, but her hands were shaking too violently. She stumbled over herself as she shoved herself through the thin passage, moving faster than she had ever dared to move in there. The stone scraped and scratched at her shoulders and arms, but the stinging only prompted Sienna to move faster. A sword would be worse than some stone.

The halls were getting more and more confused. Sienna had never been to this part of the tunnels. There were no indents, no markers of where she was or where she would end up.

Her chest continued to burn more and more, the pain spreading to her lungs and Sienna's breaths were becoming faster as she scrambled forward. Her head hurt as if someone had taken a war hammer to her skull and the hallway was beginning to blur.

With a whimper, Sienna gave up on trying to find the directions on the walls and just ran wherever they took her. Keeping her hands stretched out in front of her, she let her hands guide her forward. Cobwebs tangled in her hair and lashes, dust coating her skin as she delved deeper and deeper into the tunnels, deeper into the dark. As she rounded another corner,l Sienna ran face-first into a wall. Her let out a cry, feeling her head jerk back and nose break, gushing blood even further down her face and neck.

"Fuck", she sobbed, gripping her nose in her palm as tears streamed down her cheek.

Reaching her free hand forward, she felt the wall that she had run into. To her surprise, it wasn't a wall. Spreading her fingers across the smooth material, Sienna felt the surface carefully. It was smooth and cool, unlike the rough surface of the walls around her. Sliding her hand down, she felt a lump of cool metal. A knob. This was a door.

Sienna hesitated, hand hovering over the handle. This door could lead to somewhere in the castle for all she knew. It could take her right back to where she started. But, consequently, this door could also lead her to safety. There wasn't much choice left, as it turned out.

"Damn it all", she whispered, causing a sharp pain to rip up her nose. Cringing and holding tighter to her nose, Sienna placed her free hand on the knob and began to slowly turn it.

There was a creak. Sienna jumped and almost let go of the door like it had burned her. Trying to settle her pounding heart, Sienna took in a shaky breath before slowly opening the door. A gust of warm breeze hit Sienna in the face before she saw what lay outside. The door opened to show a muddy, crooked path that lead to nowhere.

Nowhere was better than the Red Keep.

Still clutching her bleeding nose, Sienna sloppily turned her head both ways, trying to see if anyone was near. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding in before stumbling out of the passage and tripping out onto the path. She broke out into a crooked run, nearly tripping over her own feet again as she did. The blur she had experienced in the passageways turned into a full tilt all around Sienna, sending the world sideways. The warm air made her feel damp, dirty. But she couldn't faint, not now.

If only she'd taken her medicine.

Pushing forward for what could have been minutes or hours or years, Sienna wove her way around the twisted path, never passing a soul. Slowly, far too slowly, Sienna could see buildings rising up in front of her, moonlight bouncing off the brick and wood houses. She could practically smell the city approaching. It smelled like shit.

Her heart had not stopped slamming itself against her chest nor had Sienna stopped looking over her shoulder the whole time, hair falling into her eyes as she did. Her mind was racing, always tricking her into thinking she saw Jaime running up behind her, sword at the ready to slice her head off and stick it on a spike.

While looking over her shoulder once again, Sienna felt her foot catch on a stone. Sprawling her hands out, she tripped and broke the fall with her hands, ripping the skin apart in the process. Her head began to burn, swirling in and out of full consciousness.

Then, to her horror, she felt the muscles in her shoulders began to twitch.

"No", she whimpered, "No no no no…"

Her shoulder blades started to spasm painfully and her knees gave way. The pain was simultaneously familiar and foreign. It had been so long since she'd had one, she'd almost forgotten how badly it hurt. In her seizing state, Sienna painfully twisted around on the dusty ground, back arching and eyes rolling back in her head like a monster.

She tried to cry out, but only managed a gurgling sound as her throat closed around itself. The lack of air was sending lightning sharp pain up her nose and into her head. She clawed at the dirt, trying to drag herself up onto her feet. The dirt painfully stuck underneath her nails, but still she couldn't pull herself up.

No one was near to help her. She had nobody left, no one who knew what to do when this happened.

The world began to become darker, the spasms taking over completely. Her muscles were knotted, making it impossible to move without blinding pain. The world became a blur. Sienna knew she was about to faint. She never forgot how that felt. Despite the blur, she could still see the blood from her nose mixing with the dirt, creating a morbid splatter painting in the ground.

She couldn't move, couldn't run anymore. Jaime would find her out here, finish the job. Even if he didn't, Sienna would die out here anyway. Some thief would kill her and take the boots from her feet. Why wouldn't he? She was just some poor girl nobody knew.

For the first time since that night all those years ago, Sienna closed her eyes and waited for death.

* * *

Cersei sped through the halls, calling out for Jaime as loud as she could without alerting the guards. She wrapped her robe tightly around her as she passed through another corridor, her chest burning with fear. Whoever it had been that had seen them had to be dealt with

"Jaime", she called out, swiping her hair from her face, "Jaime!"

As she strode across the cobbled floors, something caught her eye. The door across from her was wide open, practically begging for someone to step out and catch her running through the halls. Taking a step back and straightening her robe, Cersei observed the door and realized that it belonged to Sienna.

With a shuddering sigh, she crossed the hall and entered the room. She had to make sure her daughter was unharmed. What if the stranger had found her after he had caught Cersei and Jaime? Gods, what would they do to her precious child?

"Sienna, my child you have to close your door. There is a-"

Cersei stared at the rumpled bed, realizing that her daughter was not there.

"Sienna?", she breathed out, whipping her head around to find her daughter, but all there was were shadows.

"Sienna?"

She wasn't supposed to be anywhere but her room. She didn't know the castle well enough to find her way to a nurse. Gods, she could be lost, hurt, anything at all. Where in Seven Hells could she have-

And then, from the corner of her eye, a burst of white caught her attention. Something inside her told her that she didn't want to see what she was about to see. Shaking, Cersei turned towards the bright spot to see a white tunic tucked into the corner.

A white tunic identical to the one she had seen the stranger wearing.

"No", Cersei choked out, dropping to her knees in front of the small pile of clothes.

It was all there. Every shred of proof she needed to identify the stranger who she had sent Jaime after. The white tunic, identical boots, Her medicine left untouched on the nightstand.

Cersei's breath began to choke her, her chest contracting painfully. Oh gods, she had sent Jaime to kill…

"Cersei."

The golden haired queen whipped around to see Jaime standing in the doorway, a confused and worried expression twisting his face at the sight of her kneeling on the ground. He was still panting, clearly having run all the way over here. Had he…

"Did you find them?" Cersei choked out, fingers clutching the tunic she had found to her chest.

"I'm afraid-"

"Did you find them!", she ripped out, barely keeping her voice below a scream. Her heart slammed in her chest as she glared up at her brother.

"I-", he stammered, caught off guard by Cersei's sudden ferocity, "No. I couldn't find them. I'll continue to search."

Choking down a sob, Cersei turned back to the pile of clothes that had belonged to her beautiful child. The child she had just condemned to death. There was no way for her to survive alone. She wouldn't last the night.

"It…", she croaked, sobs trying to rip their way through her throat, "It was Sienna…"

Cersei payed not attention to Jaime's response, his half thought out assurances. He'd never loved her like she had. It didn't matter. Her daughter, her little black haired beauty was gone, and she had been the one to destroy her.

Letting sobs rack her body, she clung tight to the tunic and prayed to the gods that they make her daughter's death painless.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all so much for the response that this story has received! I never thought anyone would like this story, and I'm glad so many of you do. I actually have a tumblr for all my OC's if you want to follow any of that (I just do it for fun). It's bad-dancer.**

 **HPuni101: Thank you for saying that. I worked pretty hard to try and flesh out the whole 'only Baratheon' thing a little more, and I'm glad you noticed.**

 **UmiNight Angel Neko: This comment made me giggle and it made me so happy :D**

 **HPuni101 (again!): There will be long term consequences for Sienna's illnesses, and it plays a big part in the story.**

 **Guest: Correct! Sienna's fc is Octavia Blake, but in the first two chapters she is much younger, so I imagined her more as India Eisley.**

 **Mortzo: I hope to write more. Glad you're having fun!**


	4. Poppy Waters

Sienna felt like there was a blacksmith hammering away at her head. Her eyelids pressed firmly together as she tried to twist her head around, groaning from the pain. She couldn't pry her eyes open, but something felt... off. The ground underneath her was soft, and the air wasn't cold anymore. It was warm and there was a breeze wrapping it's way around her body. She stretched her fingers out deliriously, feeling silk underneath her. With great pain, she forced her eyes open, only to squeeze them back together. The sunlight was murder on her head.

Silk, sunlight. This wasn't her room… This wasn't the road…

Sienna bolted upright. The instant she was up she felt shooting pains up her back and nose. She groaned in pain, clasping onto her nose. However, something caught her attention. She expected to feel blood pouring out of her nostrils, but when she drew her hand back it was clean, save for a few flecks of dried blood. She felt her hands shaking, her chest quaking from the inside. What in seven hells happened?

"I was wondering when you were going to wake."

Sienna shrieked, slamming her back into the headboard, causing her knotted muscled to scream in protest. She whipped her head around to see a red haired woman sitting at a makeup table, fixing her hair into an intricate twist. The smile she sent Sienna felt half genuine, like she had practiced it in the mirror.

"H-hello?" Sienna stuttered, pressing herself further into the headboard.

The woman smiled softly up at her, bringing her hands down from her hair. "No need to be nervous, darling. I'm not here to chop you up or anything of the sort. Not my business, you see. I'm just a friendly face."

Sienna felt her face deepen into a scowl, which only caused her nose to hurt more. She grimaced and gently pressed her fingertips to the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, darling", the woman sighed, standing up and gliding over to Sienna before gently taking her face in her hands, causing her to flinch, "You certainly took quite the fall. It took three of my girls to help carry you back here without hurting you even more."

"Thank- uh, thank you", Sienna muttered, stiff underneath the woman's soft grip, "Where am I, exactly?"

"Oh, shit", the woman whispered, her voice concealing a slight laugh that made Sienna feel a little less nervous, turning back to the mirror when she realized everything was fine, "I suppose you're wondering where you are. Who wouldn't? Well, you're at a brothel on the Street of Silk."

"A brothel?", exclaimed the raven haired girl, her eyes widening, "Why- what am I doing at a brothel?"

"Well, I brought you here", the redhead explained simply, straightening a few strands of hair in the mirror in front of her when Sienna saw her eyes widen in the mirror. The dark haired girl stiffened. Did this woman recognize her? How was that even possible? Slowly, Sienna slid her legs towards the floor, ready to escape at a moments notice.

"Damn it all", the woman hissed through her teeth, grasping a necklace in her delicate fingers as she spun around in her seat, "I never told you who I am. No wonder you're shaking like some lost woodland creature. I'm Ros."

Exhaling quietly, Sienna settled slightly back into the bed. She was safe for now, though she kept her body stiff and ready to leap away.

"What's your name, darling?", asked Ros, clasping the necklace around her throat.

Sienna knew she couldn't very well give the red headed woman her real name. If the queen heard anything about her daughter all the way near Flea Bottom, the Kingsguard would most certainly be sent to kill her. Anyway, Ros probably wouldn't believe her if she told the truth. No one really believed she was human, after all.

"Poppy", responded Sienna carefully, "Poppy Waters."

The name felt strange on her tongue. She had never called herself that before, only Uncle Tyrion had called her by that flowers name. His little Poppy. Filled with dreams and fantasies. It almost felt like a child's name. Sienna Baratheon was a miserable, locked away secret. Poppy Waters was a bastard, unclaimed and unloved by her parents, but free.

"A bastard, then?", remarked Ros, turning back towards the dark haired girl, a playful smirk gracing her face, "I know plenty of you. Got plenty working here, in fact."

"Are you suggesting I'm a whore?", sputtered Sienna, wholly frightened by the idea. Realizing she might have insulted Ros, Sienna quickly tried to explain herself. "I- well, I meant to say, it's just not- well, what my plans include. Actually, I don't have any plans, but-"

"Woah, there darling", giggled Ros, placing a soft hand gently on Sienna's sore shoulder, "I never meant to scare you. I'm not offended. Most people react in much worse ways."

"That's awful", Sienna muttered, looking into the whore's green eyes.

Ros gave a soft laugh, as if finding her naive and adorable. "It's not so bad once you know what to do", she said, "Anyway, what I meant to say to you is bastards are welcome among people like us. We don't really give a shit, you see."

Ros turned slightly more towards Sienna, her eyebrows knitting together as she took in her nose with a look of distaste. "My dear, we have to fix your face."

"Oh, I'm sure my face is fine", insisted Sienna, bringing her hand up to cover her nose.

"Well, at least let me check if it's broken", she insisted, gently guiding the girl up from the bed and towards her makeup table, "I've fixed quite a few in my day. Several came out better then they started."

Ros gently lifted Sienna's chin towards the mirror. Finally seeing herself, she felt like gagging. Her nose sat crooked and sharp on her face with dark black and purple smeared from the bridge of her nose all the way across her cheekbones with a rough wound right on the bridge. The undersides of her eyes were red and her skin looked even paler in the natural light. Her long hair sat in black, matted clumps up the back and her tunic was stained with blood from her nose.

"Oh, shit", she muttered nervously, softly prodding at the sharp crack in her nose, "It's worse than I thought."

"Oh, no need to be so negative", Ros cooed, swatting at Sienna's shoulder good naturedly, "I've dealt with worse. You should see some of the women who come out of pubs after pissing off the wrong man."

"Fucking pigs", Sienna spat, eyes narrowing.

"You're telling me", responded Ros with a smirk, "Okay, darling, turn towards me."

Sienna did what she was told, turning to face the woman in front of her. Ros placed two fingers around her nose, using her other hand to grab two small sticks with bits of cloth wrapped around the tops. She stuck both sticks into a nostril each, sending a dull pain up Sienna's nose.

"Now, I'm going to count to three", she explained, looking seriously into the raven haired girls nervous eyes, "And it's going to hurt, but only for a second. Are you ready?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sienna let out a strained "yes", steeling herself or the pain.

"Alright", Ros said soothingly, "One-"

 _Crack._

Sienna let out a deep cry of pain. The bone snapped underneath the quick twist and shove of Ros's fingers and sticks, sending a bright snap of pain through her face.

"No warning?", she groaned, pressing the side of her palm to her throbbing nose, "Nothing?"

Ros took in Sienna's face critically. "Well, it's not my best work", she stated, eyeing the details, "The bridge is still a little crooked, but the tip is turned up a little more. It's actually a quite cute. Dangerous beauty and all that."

"Dangerous is not the word I would use to describe myself", Sienna sighed, glancing at herself in the mirror beside her. Ros hadn't been wrong, her nose was sharper now, and made her face a little more angular. She briefly wondered if the wounds on the bridge would leave a scar.

The raven haired girl recoiled when she felt Ros swat her on the shoulder.

"That's horseshit", she said simply, grasping Sienna by both shoulders and turning her towards the mirror, "Us women are all dangerous, most of us are just told it's wrong. Don't be afraid to be fearsome, my little flower."

Sienna stared into the mirror, eyes flicking back and forth from her own reflection and Ros's. She finally settled on her own, taking in her semi new face, the beginnings of her new life.

"Yeah", she whispered, her chest puffing out slightly, "Dangerous. I'd better start learning that."

* * *

"Where is Sienna", Tyrion demanded, standing as tall as he could in the presence of his sister.

It had been only a few hours since he'd returned, and Tyrion immediately knew something was wrong. The guards were on edge, stiff and terrified. It was as if they knew something terrible was about to happen. Only his sister could make people that nervous for their own skin. However, when he went up to visit Sienna, he knew something had happened to her. She was nowhere to be seen. No guard or nurse or maester had any answers for him.

Cersei may be a talented liar, but her children were her weakness. Even the one she preferred to keep in the shadows. Her slender shoulders tensed at the sound of her daughter's name before she put on that careful, indifferent mask she always wore. Oh, how Tyrion wished he could slap that look off her face.

"She's ill", she responded shortly, still not looking at Tyrion.

"I know you're not a fool, dear sister", sneered Tyrion, standing his ground, "She has not been seen in two days. No one can tell me where she is. And, most importantly, I know you. Nothing slips past you. You know where she is."

Tyrion could see Cersei battling something in that blonde head of hers. He felt his fists clench as the silence continued. After a moment too long of silence, Tyrion slammed his fat fist on the table, sending a plate shattering on the floor. Cersei jumped, the beginnings of a yelp swallowed quickly. Strange. He had never seen her do that. Her mask was slipping.

"Where is Sienna?", demanded Tyrion loudly, staring down his sister.

"I don't know!" she shouted back. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide with anger and, perhaps for the first time in her life, fear.

"What?", demanded Tyrion, inching closer to his sister, "What do you mean you don't know? How could you possibly lose your own daughter?"

He expected Cersei to rise up, strike at him. That was her usual tactic, and it was her best. But what she did next surprised even him.

Cersei shrank back into the ornate chair, a few locks of blonde hair falling over her face. She looked ashamed and afraid, like a deer caught by a hunter. She looked nothing like the lioness she professed herself to be. It only made the fear in Tyrion's chest grow. Something awful must have happened to his Poppy.

"She ran away", Cersei said simply, struggling with the words.

"What do you mean she ran away?", growled Tyrion, his face growing hot, "She knows what that means. She can't fend for herself, she's too weak. She'll die if she's left alone out there!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Cersei spat back, shooting forward in her seat, "I have no idea where she is or what's happened to her. Don't you think I'm worried too? This is my daughter."

That's when he saw it. The chink in the armor.

Cersei was lying.

Tyrion felt disgust rise up inside him like bile, burning his stomach. He'd always known Cersei had a strange sort of love for her first born, but how could she lie about this? She knew something, and she wasn't going to tell him.

"You're lying", said Tyrion evenly, becoming enraged but still trying to scare his sister, "You know something and you won't say it. What did you do?"

"I know nothing about-"

"Don't lie, sister", interrupted Tyrion with a sneer, "It's unbecoming."

Tyrion took a few steps towards his sister. She shrank back again, looking frightened. He had never scared his sister before. Tyrion enjoyed the sensation.

"If I discover you had something to do with this", he whispered intensely, staring her right in her green eyes, "I will hurt you. Make no mistake. That girl is one of the few good, true things this family has produced. If you had anything to do with this or, worse, we find her dead, I will kill you."

"You wouldn't dare", whispered Cersei, her voice betraying a slight tremor.

"For this, for _her,_ I would."

Unable to look at his sister any longer, Tyrion turned and made his way out of the room. There was work to be done. Poppy needed to be found.

Tyrion made his way through the Keep, unwavering in his knowledge of who he needed to speak to. He had no need for the guards that he passed by every few seconds. They would be utterly useless in actually getting the job done. No, he needed someone who was adept at finding things that didn't want to be found.

Arriving at his destination, Tyrion rapped his fist on the large wooden door, waiting for the occupant inside. The low rustling of silk made Tyrion scowl as the door opened, every inch of him wanting to get started immediately. But he kept his temper in check as Varys appeared above him, his perfume already tickling his nose uncomfortably.

"My lord", Varys said gently, a look of surprise on his face that Tyrion saw right through, "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"You know exactly what I'm here for", Tyrion responded lowly, looking up seriously at the Spider, "I need you and your little birds to find Sienna."

Varys' brows raised daintily, feigning surprise once again. "Why, I had no idea-"

"Save the bullshit, Varys", the little lord snapped, clenching his fists at his side, "We both know you know everything that happens in this city, and you are the most capable to find my niece. Do whatever you must, just bring her back. Alive, if… if she isn't already…"

"I will do what I can, my lord", the master of whispers reassured him gently, something that Tyrion found odd and, for some strange reason, genuine, "No one want to see that brilliant young woman disappear."

* * *

Sienna trudged through the streets, shoulders hunched protectively as she tried not to collide with the people around her. She'd already managed to piss off two horrendously drunk men by knocking into them and didn't plan on doing it again.

Her new clothes hung loosely against her skin. Ros had scrownged up a few old pieces some clients had left behind, leaving Sienna in a large pair of trousers held up only by the thick belt she had looped around her waist twice, a tunic that could have passed for a tent and a large hunting jacket. Her boots, luckily, had been unharmed in her ordeal and were laced securely onto her feet. Ros had also given her a small pouch with some money in it for food and shelter.

Sienna had thanked her profusely, embarrassing herself again by tripping over her words in gratitude. The woman had the kindness to laugh at her antics and give her a farewell hug before sending her on her way. Sienna was sure that her perfume still clung to the rough fabric of her clothes.

She then spent the next hour or so wandering, trying to find anyone that might know of some sort of transportation out of King's Landing. But all she got for her efforts were sneers and the simpering smiles of people who didn't want to talk to someone who looked like a drunken street urchin.

After a while, Sienna began to feel her vision blur and her head was dizzying again. Quickly, she ducked into the first shop she came across to try and keep still for a few moments. As soon as she entered, the stale smell of ale made her nose burn. Sienna covered her nose and looked around to see a small smattering of men hooting drunkenly at a haggard looking barmaid.

Sienna slipped into a seat in the corner as quietly as she could, lowering her head into her hands to try and settle the dizziness. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to get a moment's peace. She felt a hand knock on the table, causing her to whip her head up to see the barmaid glaring down at her. She was even more disturbing up close.

"Ya want anythin', darlin'?", the woman grumbled. Sienna noticed that there was some red makeup stuck between her teeth. It made her look like her gums were bleeding, which wouldn't have surprised Sienna at all.

"Uh…", she muttered nervously, curling deeper into herself, "No, I- well, I don't think I… no. I don't need anything."

"Then what's the fuckin' point o' ya?", the barmaid spat before turning back towards the bar, red stained teeth bared.

"Wait", Sienna squeaked, catching the barmaids attentions once again.

She huffed and turned around, hands planted firmly on her hips as she sneered down at the dark haired girl. The look she gave Sienna made her want to melt into the corner and never speak again.

"Do you- uh", she stuttered, fingers woven tightly together nervously, "Do you know the best way north? A road, perhaps?"

"Fuck, you ever been here before?", the woman groaned while rolling her eyes, pointing back towards the street, "Traveller's road is a half a league away. Turn towards the Sept of Baelor and you'll find it."

Sienna repeated the instructions gently to herself to make sure she understood it. When she finished, she opened her mouth to thank the woman, but saw that she had stomped her way back to the bar instead.

Sienna cringed, embarrassed and unsure of what to do. With her head still aching, she rested it in one hand and observed the people around her. The men were knocking each other around and ogling the barmaids breasts brazenly. The skinny girl gagged at the sight of the men, who were now boasting about the hunt they were going on.

Sienna's head perked up at that. A hunt? That meant they must have weapons on them. Her eyes flicked to the mens belts to see that they each had hunting blades loosely strapped to their sides, knocking around due to the amount they were jumping around to get the barmaid's attention.

She observed the men as they sank deeper into their cups, trying to remember everything she knew about pickpocketing. The only things she knew came from books, and they were little help in the real world at the moment. Their conversations bored her to death. Tales of whores and hunting held no particular fascination to her, but she endured to be sure she knew what to do when they left.

Before long, the men went stumbling towards the tavern door. As they passed, Sienna nervously stuck her hand out as carefully as possible. As one man, with a scraggly blonde beard and the smell of a dead boar passed, she shut her eyes tight and quickly snatched one of the loose blades off of his belt, slipping it into the pocket of her coat. Her chest tightened as she waited for them to stop and scream at her, but nothing came. Carefully, she opened one of her eyes to see the men were gone, unaware of what she'd just done.

After several tense seconds, Sienna let out a breath she'd been holding and carefully slipped out of her seat and out the door, scampering down out into the street as quickly as possible.

The filth of the street clung to her boots as Sienna trudged closer and closer to the traveler's road. Piss and horse shit stuck to the bottoms. She scrambled through merchant carts and prisoner caravans, dizzied by the sheer amount of noise and color that was exploding around her. She was just beginning to think she might want to try another caravan when she came upon a cart filled with fabrics. An older woman was siffling through the merchandise, clearly inspecting it before the carts were due to leave.

Seeing a way out of the city, Sienna picked up her pace and made her way to the woman's side, stumbling as she did.

"Pardon me", Sienna panted, the small exertion having winded her already, "Are you leaving the city?"

"Yeah", the woman responded suspiciously, eyeing the girl in front of her, "What's it to ya?"

"Oh, um, well, I just need passage out of King's Landing", the girl choked out quickly, "I have money, I could pay you."

The merchant hummed, still eyeing Sienna as if she were a piece of meat she was considering purchasing. The look made her skin crawl. The woman's dull brown hair fell in clumps around her face, making her grey eyes all the more shudder inducing.

"Where are ya headed?", the woman asked directly, skipping over any possible pleasantries.

"North", Sienna responded just as simply.

The woman crooked an eyebrow. "North where? Storm's End? Winterfell?"

"Just… North."

The woman huffed, her nose wrinkling in annoyance. Sienna opened her mouth, about to explain further when she heard the telltale clanking of armor behind her. Her heart slammed in her chest as Sienna whipped around to see three Kingsguard speaking with a merchant only a few feet away.

The raven haired girl kept her hand wrapped tightly around the hunting blade still hidden inside her coat, as if she knew anything about how to use it. It brought her comfort, at least. Almost as if she could figure it out should the need arise. Quietly, Sienna slipped around the back of the merchant's cart and used the others to cover her as she made her way to the front of the caravan. She kept her back pressed firmly to each cart, ducking and scampering as quickly as she could to try and get on the road.

Keeping her shaking body as quiet as possible, the girl managed to sneak her way into the wooded area beside the road, concealing herself in the trees. Panting and scared, she began stumbling through the area, keeping her eyes on the road to make sure she didn't lose it.

She was going North. But where, she wasn't sure.

* * *

Varys stood quietly at the edge of the caravan, hands tucked gently in his silk sleeves. His eyes followed the dark haired princess as she made her way skillfully through the crowd and into the woods. It was quite remarkable, the way she wove through the crowd as if she were a shadow, evading the sight of everyone, save himself. Though he did pride himself on being able to see what most didn't. And he most certainly saw Sienna.

Part of him wanted to honor his words to Tyrion, bring her back to her family like he'd promised. But something told him that this girl could do more out in the world than anyone could imagine.

"Good luck, Sienna", Varys whispered to himself, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "There is hope for you yet."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again! I want to say thank you so very much for all the amazing comments I've recieved. They give me so much motivation and make me feel so good about this story.**

 **Anyway, this is where the story really starts up. Sienna is off on her own and things are starting to change for her, for better or for worse. She's definitely got a lot to deal with from here, and I'm so excited for the story to really start. The next chapter may come out a little later than I would like because I'm going to Canada for about two weeks. I'll try and get some writing done in between activities, though.**

 **Dreamy-Girl2016: The story does follow some of the main plot points, but changes will be made because Sienna changes the game in her own way ;)**

 **UmiNight Angel Neko: Thank you again for your ever kind and amazing words! Fine is a relative word when it comes to Sienna, though. And Cersei really does love her, but like most love in Westeros, it's incredibly complicated.**

 **willow441988: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying what I've got so far :D**

 **HelloWorld: This is the most eloquent comment I've ever read :D You hit the nail on the head of Cersei and Sienna's relationship, and I'm so happy you did.**

 **PtLacky: You're seriously making me blush!**

 **Last Assassin's Shadow: I'm so happy you found my little story and I hope to continue to impress you.**


	5. Pretty Little Thing All Alone

Sienna's hair stuck to her neck and back, the dark matted clumps knotting together almost painfully as she hunched over a small pile of day old meat pies. She sat beneath the edge of a tavern's roof, rain misting just out of her reach onto the slick, muddy ground. Her feet stretched out into the drizzle, wrapped in old cloth that was stained yellow and brown. The lukewarm juices ran through her fingers as she shoved the edible bits into her mouth like a wild animal. Some dribbled down her chin in her haste to eat as quickly as possible.

Her boots lay at her side, stinking and full of puss from the blisters that had exploded inside. She picked irritably at her tunic, now stained with mud and small flecks of blood, as it stuck to her shoulders irritably. Every inch of her felt off balance and disgusting, as if she were made of nothing but sick and sweat.

It had been nearly three weeks since Sienna had been forced to run. Nearly three weeks of travelling on foot along the road, blisters exploding all over her feet, spilling puss into her boots. She knew she smelled of piss and sweat, and her skin felt slick and sticky to touch. Parts of her shoulders and nose had burned from the sun, but here she was, still surviving.

Her money had run out after a week. No money meant no lodging, no food. Nothing. Instead, she had to get creative. Sienna had been scrounging behind taverns and bars as much as she could, stuffing her pockets with any dry food and eating the rest before it rot. It all tasted like shit, but what did it matter? She spent most nights either squeezing under roofs and porches to try and get any semblance of cover from the elements. All this lead her here, under another tavern roof, feet burning and cheeks stuffed with food that might well be poisoning her.

As she stuffed the last bit of the pie into her cheek, Sienna felt the warms of light spill out onto her back. She whipped around, her aching body crying out as she did. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a woman with straggly hair and crooked teeth sneering down at her.

"Wha' the fuck are you doin' here?", the woman spat, snatching a broom from the edge of the door, "There's no place for whore's 'ere!"

"I'm…", Sienna protested weakly, trying to push herself back up onto her feet, but only managing to make it to her knees, "I'm not a whore…."

As she opened her mouth to try and ask for shelter, Sienna felt a solid whack to the side of her face. The woman had sent the broom flying, the sticks at the end scratching at her cheeks as the woman beat her down and away from the building. Sienna tried to fight back, to speak up or push the broom away, but she was too weak. She fell over her side into the mud, the thick substance smearing across her side as she skidded down. The woman gave one last hit to the ribs, sending the air straight out of Sienna's lungs.

"An' stay the fuck away!", the woman screeched, swerving around and stomping back into the tavern, kicking Sienna's boots out into the mud beside her.

Sienna felt the rain sliding down her spine, mixing with the mud and slipping through her hair. She knew she should move, get up, walk away. But everything felt so heavy. She stretched her fingers deeper into the cool mud, watching the blurry world around her in shades of blue and brown. Not an ounce of sunlight to be found so deep out here.

Despite the heaviness in her bones, Sienna spread her hands and pushed herself up off of the ground. She felt the knots in her muscles crack and pop and she made her way to her feet, swaying and barely finding her balance. She carefully placed her feet on the flagstones that made a path to the tavern, keeping her wrappings from becoming muddy. She slowly laced her boots back on, wincing at every little movement that rubbed her open sores against the rough material before standing back up and beginning to trudge through the pathetic excuse of rain.

Sienna winced with each step, her legs and feet aching. She hadn't had any medicine since the day she left, and she could feel herself becoming weaker on the inside. She felt as if her insides were crying out, ripping and breaking and screaming for help.

The only light came from the windows of the houses and taverns lining the dirt road. This little village had little to offer besides rotten food and a broom to the face. Out of habit, Sienna reached her hand into the inside pocket of her jacket, wrapping her fingers around the hunting blade she'd stolen what felt like a lifetime ago. She'd managed to keep it at her side since the beginning, and it brought her a small flicker of comfort.

The village began to disappear behind Sienna, fading into a forgotten mirage of lights and dirt. She spent nearly an hour like that, the last flickers of blue light through the thick clouds slowly vanishing until only the thick blue light of a sunset behind dark clouds was left. Sienna kept her eyes open, in spite of how much her eyelids ached. She took in each detail of the light and the trees and the dirt, searing it into her memory as best she could. No matter how much pain she was in, she refused to stop finding the details of the world she had been robbed of all her life.

For now, though, her main concern was finding somewhere to settle. Anywhere at all that would hide her from the Kingsguard and her family. So far, she'd only found villages with at least one band of soldiers from King's Landing housed inside, and she knew the farther away she got the safer she would be.

The mud stuck to her boots as she trudged on, following the path she had been on for what may as well have been a lifetime.

* * *

The bells of the Sept of Baelor rung loud over a careless Kings Landing. People were silent, but few did so out of respect or mourning. Some tried to sneak their way into the funeral, but Tyrion had told the guards to throw anyone who came within a mile of the Sept into the dungeons for a week. Sienna deserved an undisturbed funeral.

Tyrion was no fool. He knew what the common people whispered about his Poppy. How she had eels for hair and turned men to ice. He knew the various monsters they made her out to be for their own amusement. And he'd never cared before. People would say what they wanted to say, he'd given Sienna armor long ago.

Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.

But she was no longer there to be hurt. It was just him, left alone as he stepped through the empty Sept towards his sister, a bundle of flowers clutched in his fat little hands. The cold, stale air of the Sept sunk its way into his lungs, already burning from trying to hold in everything that these last few week had done to him. He'd spent every hour searching for her. Every tavern, alley and house was searched as quietly and thoroughly as possible. He'd even had the brothels searched, but no one knew anything. Sienna was gone, and there was nothing Tyrion could do to change that. There was no way for her to survive on her own.

Tyrion listened to his footsteps echo against the high ceilings as he made his way towards the center of the room.

Cersei stood bent over the empty slab where Sienna's body should have been. Tyrion saw that her back was stiff, her shoulders clenched in a way that suggested she was trying to remain composed. He noted sneeringly that she was failing.

"I'm surprised to see you here, sister", he called out, only a foot behind her as he glared up at his golden haired sister, "Considering this all happened because of you."

He expected her to turn around and sneer at him, spit poison at him like she always had. But Cersei remained stiff, staring at the slab as if she could will her daughter into being. Tyrion watched as she drew her head up slightly, lips parting hesitantly in that way they always did when she didn't know what to say. It was actually rather pathetic. Part of him felt terribly sorry for his sister, strange as that may be.

"Where's Robert?", he asked mercifully, walking around Cersei to her side at the stone slab, "Shouldn't he be at his own daughters funeral?"

"He doesn't deserve it", Cersei spat weakly, not turning her gaze away from where her daughter should have been, "The bastard never cared for her, said there was no room for a broken Baratheon. He barely ever shut up about it. Besides, he was too drunk to make an appearance."

Tyrion felt his chest pinch with anger. "I see why you banned him from the Sept, then."

The two siblings stood like that, letting the silence press down on them mercilessly. Deep inside, both knew they were barely able to stand each other but, in this moment, they also knew that no one else in the world understood how much pain they were in except each other.

"Have you heard what they've been saying?", Cersei whispered, her voice shaking slightly, "In the streets. They… they dare speak about my daughter…"

"They've been saying the same things for years", Tyrion stated simply, shoulders stiff, "They like to imagine she's a monster. It didn't help that you never let her see the light of day."

The golden haired queen sent a withering glare down at her brother, lips curling into a growl. "I did what I did to protect her."

"Clearly that didn't work", Tyrion spat bravely, turning his gaze to the empty slab where his beloved niece was supposed to be, "All you gave her was darkness."

"I gave her a chance to live!", she cried, words echoing painfully through the empty chamber, "You said you would find her. You failed too!"

"I didn't send her away, you did" Tyrion growled, feeling his blood boil in his veins, burning him from the inside out.

Cersei sneered down at him, just as furious and heartbroken as he was. "You know nothing about what happened."

"I'd like to think I know my niece well enough to know that the only person she was afraid of was you", he spat cruelly, watching as his sister fell under the weight of his words.

"You were always so clever", she hissed, every word trembling and venomous, "So very clever. Why couldn't you have been clever enough to find my daughter?"

"I tried!", he cried, feeling his words dying inside his throat. He turned his gaze towards the empty slab where Sienna should have been. He felt his throat close, his chest collapse with the realization that he would never even get to say a proper goodbye. "We don't even have a body."

Cersei's face fell as she looked back towards the empty slab, showing just how crushed she was becoming. "What do you think happened to her?"

Tyrion let out a breath, unsure of quite how to answer. They both knew what could have happened. The world was cruel and it was cruelest to the weak. And Sienna was most certainly weak. Whatever happened to her was most certainly not kind. It made Tyrion's stomach turn just to think about it.

"Could have been anything", he croaked, looking up at his sister, "I'd rather not think about the details."

Cersei's face crumpled, tears finally spilling out of her eyes fiercely and with vengeance. They left tracks on her face that Tyrion imagined might stay there forever. Her chest heaved and she could barely breathe in that moment. By all accounts, Tyrion should try and comfort her. But every tear made him burn. He felt his muscles tighten, as if he might snap at any second. She did not deserve this validation. She did not get to be the one in mourning.

"You did this", he said simply, fighting to keep his voice under control, "You did this to Sienna. She was good, possibly the only good thing any of us have ever created, and you destroyed her."

Cersei fought through her gasps, trying her hardest to glare daggers at her brother, though the effect was lost with tears in her eyes. "You don't know-"

"I don't have to", he cut off, feeling a fire burn deep in the pit of his stomach as his voice came out even and menacing, "I know that this can never be repaid. Nothing you will ever do can mend this. And I will never let you forget that. I will never let you forget."

Tyrion watched as Cersei keeled over, succumbing to her sorrow. He watched as every ounce of hope turned to ash in front of her eyes. The ash that had been dancing in front of his since he'd known his Poppy was never coming back.

* * *

Sienna felt her skin crawl as the air around her became colder with each passing hour.

The days became shorter and the cold harsher as she made her way down the road. She lifted her green eyes to the sky to see it darkening, the clouds keeping the moon and stars from view. She brushed her fingers against the tree trunks that lined the road, the leaves sending faint shadows from the pale, faded moonlight that bled through the thick clouds.

Sienna hadn't seen a town for nearly two days, leaving her nowhere to stop and rest. She barely stopped along the road to alleviate the aching in her legs. She could feel the knots in her muscles crack with each step, followed swiftly by muffled curses.

As she continued on, Sienna heard a rustling in the bushes not far from her. She shrugged, dismissing it as another random animal. Not even two weeks ago she would have jumped and screamed, only to see it was a rabbit. It made her feel utterly ridiculous, and she would never admit that it had happened more than once.

However, something made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She could hear the slightest patter behind her, the sound of footsteps that were trying to conceal themselves. Sienna felt her back stiffen and she started to walk faster, squaring her shoulders in protectively. The footsteps behind her became more insistent, speeding up to match her pace.

Sienna carefully turned her head around as she kept walking, trying to see whoever it may be. Behind her were two men, tall and lithe and threatening. Somehow, they seemed to have come out of nowhere, like they'd bled out of the shadows. Seeing that she had turned around and seen them, the taller one smirked, his eyes leering at her in a way that made her feel like a piece of meat.

"Oi, lovely!", he called out to her, spreading his arms casually, "What are you doing out 'ere all alone?"

"Fuck off", Sienna spat, trying to keep a tremor out of her voice. This hadn't been the first time she'd been called out to, and she wasn't going to shake like a scared rabbit anymore.

The two men hooted, speeding up even further and jogging to her side, effectively keeping Sienna from passing them. They looked like the whole situation was hilarious, their faces spread into smiles that didn't match their eyes. She tried to push through, but they blocked her path easily. They were far bigger than her, and she knew they wanted something. When people wanted something, they tended to not let anything stop them.

Sienna felt her face twist into a sneer, practically growling up at the men. "I said fuck off."

The other man, this one with long brown hair and deep circles under his eyes, looked down his crooked nose at her. She saw his deep eyes glinting, a smirk playing at his lips like a man dealing with a troublesome child. "Little one, we jus' wanted to 'ave a nice little chat."

"Chat with yourselves", Sienna shot back, trying once again to shove her way out from between the men and failing.

"Lovely 'ere sounds all fancy", the first man chuckled, his blonde hair falling in his sharp blue eyes, "Sounds like a proper lady."

"Who cares what her mouth sounds like?", the dark haired one responded, not taking his eyes off of her, "Only care what it does."

Sienna felt bile rise in her throat. "You're disgusting."

"Nah", the man shrugged, "We jus' know what we want, is all."

Every part of Sienna told her she needed to run. She felt her instincts screaming for her to move as quickly as possible, but she felt her muscles lock in place, betraying her. Her eyes dashed around, looking for any way out. The men were closing in on her like hungry dogs, their eyes boring into her and making her skin crawl. The only way she could see was losing them in the trees, disappearing before they could find her. The woods were only a few maddening feet away, what might as well be miles. But it was her only chance.

With one last burst of brave stupidity, she threw herself towards the side of the road, trying to make it into the woods. Her boots slipped underneath her as she tried to run, the dry dirt flying as she ran. However, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist, his skin hot and sticky against hers. The man tugged roughly on her arm, throwing her down to the ground and knocking the air straight out of her lungs. Sienna gasped, her chest collapsing as she tried to breathe again. But she didn't have the time. She weakly pushed herself up as tried to push herself away from the men, who were now laughing. Spit flew from their mouths as the shorter one swayed easily up to her and gave her a swift kick in the ribs.

Sienna cried out, instinctively curling in on herself. But she couldn't let herself stay like that. She could taste the dust filling her mouth as she clumsily pushed herself up off the ground, the sounds of the men laughing making her blood run hot.

"Where are ya goin', love?" one of the men called outat are ya runnin' for?", the blonde mocked, his smirk revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth, "You're gonna have some fun, yeah?"

Sienna felt a hot hand wrap itself around the back of her tunic just as she managed to get up. Yanking herself forward as quickly as she could, Sienna tried to rip herself out of the man's grasp. But it did nothing. She cried out once again as he slammed her back into the ground, her shoulder hitting the ground fiercely and sending a blinding pain through her arm. She felt her hunting blade press into her side, cutting through the cloth of her fabric and grazing her skin.

Her dark hair fell into her eyes as Sienna clutched her injured shoulder, groaning in pain. She rolled onto her back, unable to force herself back up. Her eyes fell on the men, their eyes taking over her body, ripping through her skin as if they could see her insides.

"Please", she begged, desperately pushing herself backwards with her legs and dragging herself through the dirt, "You can't- please don't hurt me."

"Oi, lovely", the blonde lilted, his smirk settling on his face as he watched her try in vain to create distance between them, "No need to be so scared. You'll have your fun, too."

Sienna screeched as she felt his hand roughly grab her leg and tug her towards him. Her heart slammed so hard she feared her ribs might break under the pressure. "No! No please- please don't-"

"Stop fighting", the blonde grunted, placing his weight on her legs and nodding at his friend, "Hold down her head, would ya? Don't want her mouth moving too much."

Sienna continued to scream, arms thrashing and trying in vain to rip into the blonde man's skin as he batted her wild attempts away with ease. The bigger man came round to her head and grabbed fistfull's of her hair, holding her head down and sending pain through her scalp.

"I said-", the man spat, his face twisting and turning red, "Stop fighting, you fuckin' cunt. You'll only make it harder on yourself."

The dark haired girl still fought, thrashing and screaming and rolling. She felt her blade stick into her side, ripping through her skin as she writhed around in the dirt. As the blood stuck her tunic to her side, her mind flashed with the mad realization that she had a weapon. The blonde leaned over her face, giving her full view of a mouth full of rotten teeth and eyes full of rotten purpose. He smirked down at her, eyes mad and face flushed with excitement. Sienna gagged at the smell, terrified as she dug her hand into her coat pocket as quickly as she could, slicing her fingertips as she tried to get a grip on her knife.

"Don't worry, darlin'", he simpered, blonde hair falling over his greasy forehead as he smiled down at her, "We'll make sure you-"

Finally feeling the grip of the handle, Sienna gave no time to think as she ripped the blade out and shoved it deep in the man's throat, cutting off his words before he could finish. She watched in horror as his face twisted in shock, droplets of blood slipping down his neck as he realized what had happened.

In a panic, the girl cried out and ripped the knife out of the man's throat, but it was clumsy. It didn't simply slide out, it ripped through the muscles and skin, spilling blood over her face and into her mouth and working its way into her hair. She felt the other man let go of her hair and back away, taking a few chunks of hair with him. The blonde pressed a hand to his neck, eyes full of terror as he gurgled and choked on his own blood.

Terrified and choking on another man's blood, Sienna roughly pushed the man off of her and quickly got to her feet, shaking and barely able to stand. The man rolled on the ground, thrashing and desperate as the blood soaked through his fingers and down his chest, staining his tunic. Sienna could do nothing but watch, unable to move out of fear and horror. The way he twitched around on the ground sent shivers down her spine. Then, as if he were a puppet getting his strings cut, the blonde man went limp on the ground, blood flowing down to the ground and turning the dirt to mud.

Sienna stood there, her breath burning in her chest as she she stared at the body, feeling the man's blood drip down her neck and onto her chest. Gods, it was so hot against her skin.

Breaking through the silence, she heard a rustling beside her. Sienna whipped around, raising the bloody blade up in defense. She looked up to see the taller, brown haired man staring at her with fear in his eyes, hands up as if he were never more terrified in his life.

"G-go", Sienna croaked, her words stuttering and unable to fully leave her mouth.

The man stood frozen, still staring at her with wide eyes.

"I SAID GO!" she screeched, terror running through her veins as she held the blade out threateningly. She felt the blood drip down her cheeks and fall down her neck, but her hands were shaking as she held the blade. She could only imagine what she must look like.

The man finally snapped out of it, turning around so quickly he nearly fell down and running down the road as fast as his long legs could carry him. His form faded quickly and Sienna stood frozen in her spot, her arm locked as it held the blade up in the air towards no one. She panted, barely able to breathe as she looked back down at the body a few feet away from her.

His breeches were wet and his body already smelled, as if every bit of rot held inside him was leaking out as his body gave in. The smell burned her nose as it filled the air. The red stood starkly against his white skin, staining him a terrible scarlet. And his eyes… his eyes were empty, looking out at her with nothing inside.

With a retch, Sienna felt her stomach lurch, and violently emptied her stomach into the dirt, smearing the air with more sharp rot and stinging her eyes with the smell. The taste filled her mouth as she fell to her knees and spit out the remainder from between her teeth. Her chest shuddered as she looked back up from behind her hair and stared at the blonde body on the ground.

"I-" she croaked, her stomach rolling as if she might vomit again, "I'm so- I'm so sorry."

Whatever apologies that Sienna could possibly fathom died in her throat. She began to drag herself up off the ground and stumble backwards on the road. She broke into a jagged run as she tried to get as far away as she could, still clutching the knife in her fist. She felt the blood staining her skin, sticking in her hair. The sensation made her gag as she stumbled. It felt like it was burning her skin, attaching itself to her and staining her forever. Clumsily, she started to rub at her face, trying to scrape away every trace of blood. It stuck under her nails and smeared across her palms. She began to gag, whimper, cry out as she continued to rub at her skin until she felt her face turn hot and her skin flake.

Gods, what had she done?

The guilt ripped through her like wildfire, bringing Sienna to her knees. The hard dirt scraped the already raw skin and stuck to the barely closed wounds there. Everything felt so heavy, crushing her skin and her bones underneath it all. She curled in on herself on the ground, letting the moonlight fall over her back as she tried to breathe again. She placed her head against her knees, taking in as much air as she could with each breath and trying to make her chest stop trembling.

She remained like that for hours, letting the blood dry on her skin. She scratched at her face and neck, her movements wild and sloppy. She tore through the skin on her cheeks several times trying to rid herself of the blood as quickly as she could. But the sticky substance stuck underneath her nails and continued to taunt her, branding her with it's scarlet stain.

Then, out of the black, Sienna heard something approaching. The creak of wheels hit her ears and sent a jolt through her back. Panicked, she scrambled off of the ground and behind a nearby tree, desperate to not be seen. It could be the man she'd let go, back for revenge. Flashes of what he might do to her seared their way into her mind. She burrowed down into the dirt and tried to make herself as small as possible. The creaking became louder and Sienna could hear voices coming closer.

"Keep the fuck up", a man lazily called out, "Towns not too far, ya bastards."

Sienna held her breath as the voices became louder, but noted that they mention a nearby town. Maybe she was far enough now, she could find somewhere to hide. Make a life somewhere in there with a new name and no questions. Yes she still knew she had to run further. She wasn't safe yet.

"Fuck off, Hill" a rough voice shouted back, "We've been riding for hours. Why don't just we make camp?"

"Shut your fuckin' mouth" the first man- Hill, it would seem- spat back, "We make camp just outside the next town. Keeps us on track till get to the Wall."

Sienna's ears perked up. They were bound for the Wall. Her mother could never find her there. The Night's Watch was beyond the reach of the crown. And she knew what they were, great heroes and strong men. She held no doubts that they would give her shelter, protect her as long as she may need it. For the first time in weeks, Sienna felt hope swell in her chest.

"We'll be there in less than an hour, you dirty old-"

"Wait!"

Scrambling to her feet, Sienna cried out and ran straight in front of the caravan. She held her hands up to show them she was no threat. The man driving the cart yelled out in surprise, yanking on the reins of his horse and stopping the cart short of running her over. Finally seeing the band of men, the green eyed girl noted that they were rather small. Less than twelve men were there, all hanging off of the one cart. And they were all filthy. There was no chance any of them had bathed in at least a week. Even from a few feet away, the stench they gave off made Sienna's nose burn.

The man at the head of the cart was staring straight at her, his eyes wide in shock, "What the fuck? Are you- are you alright, miss?"

Sienna pressed her fingertips to her cheek, feeling the blood crusting over her skin. She felt her explanations sticking in her throat, unable to escape. "I… uh, I need- I need to join you."

"What?", the man inquired, his eyebrows raising up into his dark hairline, "Pardon me, miss, but, uh- do you need help?"

"Yes", she responded quickly, "Well, of sorts. I- well, I need you to- if you would- take me to the Wall with you."

Several of the men hooted, making Sienna curl in on herself. Other men groaned, some simply ogled her in interest. But the man at the front simply stared at her. He seemed to be observing her, taking in every detail. Sienna decided that he must be the one they called Hill.

"C'mon, Donnel", a voice retched from the back, "Send the bitch off."

"I'm sorry, but this is a transport for new recruits", Hill said slowly, as if nervous to spook her, "I can't take you with us unless you have official business at Castle Black. If you've got somethin' for me, perhaps."

"I- I do!", Sienna choked out in a panic, her mind buzzing with each possible thing she could come up with to support her lie, "I have… I have a brother at the Wall. He's a- a ranger. And I need to see him."

"Why don't you just go yourself?", Hill asked, his eyes narrowing down at her.

Sienna knew he was trying to find reasons not to let her come, but his attempts felt strangely weak. He seemed to be holding back, almost as if he pitied her. For some reason, that sensation made Sienna more angry than thankful. "I haven't got enough money. No cart or anything. I thought I could walk on my own, but- but I sort of, I ran into-"

"A few men who didn't exactly treat you gentle", the dark haired man interrupted, leaning forward in his seat.

"Yes", Sienna responded, her eyebrows furrowing together, "How did you know?"

He pointed vaguely at her face. "Doesn't take a genius to know a girl walking alone at night isn't exactly safe from men like these. Besides, it looks like you came out on top of the fight."

Lowering her hands, Sienna felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment and fear. The blood clung to her cheeks and stuck to her fingers in ways that must make her look like some sort of murderer. She quickly pushed down the fact that she was, unable to fathom it yet.

"I just…", Sienna stuttered, trying to keep herself calm despite the fact that she was desperate, "I need you to take me to Castle Black. Please, please help me get there. I can't make it on my own."

The men each choroused their own feelings on the matter. Most begged Hill to let her come, though they were quite disgusting in their reasons for wanting her to come. The others groaned and spat that they wanted her to leave. But Sienna kept her eyes on Donnel Hill, eyes pleading with him to help her. With each passing second she felt her chances slipping away.

Hill's eyes never left hers, boring just as deep into her as hers into his. They watched each other and the air stood still for Sienna. Each beat of silence another moment she wondered if she would be left for dead. But then, as if snapping the connection in two, Hill looked away. He pursed his lips and reached behind him before throwing a rag towards Sienna. It hit her square in the chest as she took an involuntary step backwards.

"Wipe the blood off ya", Hill grumbled, shoving the man beside him off of his perch in the cart, "Then get the fuck in. I'll take ya to your damn brother."

Sienna's eyes widened as she clutched the rag to her chest. She had no clue what to say. Relief pulsed through her as she took a tentative step forward. "Thank- thank you. Truly, I-"

"Fuck off with your thank you's", the man cut off, spittle flying from his lips, "We're only a few days from the Wall anyway. Wouldn't be honourable and shit to leave a girl out here to freeze to death. Just shut up and stay in the cart."

Hill then turned to the men behind him and threatened them should any of them touch her, but Sienna heard none of it. She quickly scrambled her way in, already scrubbing away at her bloody face. She quickly squeezed her way into a corner at the back, taking up as little space as possible as Donnel shot her one last withering look before the horse started to pull the cart forward once again, bringing Sienna towards a place she would finally be safe.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, I finally did it! So so sorry for the long wait. But I was out of the country for two week, I'm moving in another two week plus a case of writers block hit me out of nowhere. Anyway, Sienna's finally on her way to Castle Black, which is exciting. Plus a little insight into how Cersei decided to cover up the whole thing. I'm so excited to finally get Jon and Sienna talking, but you'll have to wait a little longer for that. Anyway, I hope to have the next chapter done sooner, but no promises.**

 **If anyone wants to ask me any questions at all about this, go ahead and message me, comment or send me a message on my OC tumblr (bad-dancer. tumblr. com).**

 **OldBeen1107: I'm so glad I've actually made this interesting to someone! Sienna is around 5'9'', which is really tall for a girl. She's super bony and sharp at the edges, making her perfect for slipping around in small spaces.**

 **UmiNight Angel Neko: Your comments give me life. I absolutely love you!**


	6. The Story Given

The moon peeked through the slightest sliver between clouds, casting a harsh white glow on the road. The hours were turning dark and night was deepening quickly The light was just as cold as the air, harsh and unforgiving. Sienna watched as her breath puffed through her lips, sending smoke through the air. She could feel her lips cracking and her skin tightening against her bones. She pulled the coat Hill had given her not long ago tighter around her torso in a vain attempt to trap in whatever heat was left in her skin. When she tugged on the blanket, though, the wounds on her fingers from trying to grab her blade not long ago split open and caused her flesh to scrape against the rough material.

Under her nails, though, she could still feel the dried blood. The spit and blood still branded her skin, ghosting over it and staining her.

Sienna lay curled up in the back corner of the cart, as far as she could get from the men. Donnel had been sure to create as much space between her and the others. She hadn't moved much in the past few hours, save push herself deeper into the corner. She could still feel the men's eyes on her. She knew it should make her skin crawl, but she had little fear of these men. They were small, rodent like. They were here in the light with her, no shadows to hide in.

Narrowing her eyes, Sienna shot the nearest one a glare. "What are you looking at?"

"Oi!", Hill called out from the front, sending the men scrambling back into their corner as quickly as they could, "I said eyes off the girl!"

A chorus of nervous _yes sir's_ echoed through the cart. Sienna felt her lips twitch slightly in amusement as each of the men carefully averted their eyes. Even without their vows, they were too terrified of their superiors to try anything at all around her.

She kept her eyes on them as the cart rattled on, sending each of the men glares in turn and daring them to even look at her out of pure boredom. She counted each minute by the squeak in the wheels. Each squeak stretched into minutes and hours as the orange light that spilled over the road turned to grey while the sun dipped below the ground. Sienna watched as the colors turned from orange to grey to black as the hours stretched on and on. She could barely keep her eyes open after so long, but she did. There was no point in sleep at this time.

The men's eyes started to close, each one falling asleep as the final hours of the night creeped along. Slowly the only sound left was even breaths and creaking wood. Sienna let the silence continue, keeping her eyes on the horizon as each second pushed her closer to safety. She narrowed her eyes slightly, beginning to practice her plea to the Lord Commander once again.

 _My name is Poppy Waters. I've run away from home. My mother and uncle conspired to kill me, and I have nowhere else to go. Please help me._

A lie was more convincing when it was closest to the truth.

"I'll only be there to drop you at the gates."

Sienna flinched at the sudden breach of silence, whipping her head around to see Hill was the one who'd spoken. He didn't turn to face her, continuing to guide the horses that pulled the cart along. She nervously watched his back and tried to understand what he'd said.

"I…", she muttered, unsure of what to say, "Thank you?"

"No need to fuckin' thank me", he grumbled back, tightening his grip on the reins, "Just get there and do whatever you need to do and get out. No need for some bitch runnin' around the grounds causin' trouble."

"I won't cause any trouble", she supplied, "I promise. I just- it's the safest place for me right now."

Hill's shoulders began to shake. A rough and painful sounding laugh spilled from his lips. Sienna felt her eyebrows knit together as she watched him laugh like he was trying to keep from making any noise. She scowled over at him, feeling her face scrunch together in annoyance.

"What are you laughing at?", she demanded, adjusting her position in the corner.

"Little bastard girl wants to run into the open arms of the brave Night's Watch", Hill turned slightly so that she could see the crooked and mirthless smile on his face, "You know nothin' about the world, do you?"

"I know plenty", Sienna growled, feeling as if this man was looking down his crooked nose at her, "I know that the sewage system in Casterly Rock is the best in the world. I know the king is a drunken, whoring fool. I know the Dornish are always ready to slit the Lannister's throats. And I know that the Night's Watch are heroes."

"And how do you know all that?" he groaned, stretching his back and popping several joints in the process.

The dark haired girl leaned back, taking her eyes off the repulsive man and staring instead at the dark greenery that seemed to be thinning out. "My uncle's been to the Wall. He told me all about it. There are heroes there, real ones. Not like the Kingsguard or any of that shit. And they'll protect me while I find out what I have to do to survive."

The wheels of the cart began to slow to a dull creak as Hill turned towards her. She met his gaze but was surprised to find no sarcastic smirk or joy of any kind. He was simply looking at her as if she were some lost dog in the street, something to be pitied. "You really do know nothing about the world."

His words hung in the air, heavy and little less than forgiving. The two let the silence extend in a silent agreement to stop speaking for the remainder of the hour. Sienna kept her eyes on him, though. His entire posture changed. Hill's back was stiffer, his neck strained as if he was trying to look straight ahead at all times. His jaw twitched from time to time. Sienna watched it all as the hour stretched on and the air grew colder. Her lips cracked and her fingertips turned blue. But she kept her eyes on the lavender light that was slowly making its way back into the world.

She felt her eyelids flutter, pulling themselves down and trying to force her into some sort of sleep. The world felt like a blur of split images as Sienna tried to keep herself awake.

Then, as if she'd deliberately missed it, Sienna turned her bleary gaze ever so slightly to see the Wall stretched out for eternity a mile or so ahead of them. She felt her breath hitch as she turned her whole body to face the massive monument. Gripping the edge of the cart, Sienna let her eyes widen as they inched slowly closer to it. She'd never seen anything so beautiful in her life. The dusty light of the morning seemed to leak through the ice, casting a soft glow over the patches of snow beneath it.

"There it is, girlie", sighed Donnel Hill, leaning back as the cart slowed, "Hope you find who you're looking for."

Without so much as a sound, Sienna clambered her way over the edge of the cart and down onto the frozen ground. She felt the ice beneath her feet crack like glass as she took tentative steps towards the massive structure. She threw a nervous look towards the man behind her who gave her only a half-hearted glare. She turned towards him only to see his grim face looking down at her.

"Lord Commander Mormont's up there", he grumbled, nodding vaguely up towards the large wooden doors, "Find him and talk to him about whatever it is you need. You walk on your own. Gate's open."

"Thank you", Sienna said, mimicking Hill's gruff tone. She wasn't sure what else to say to the man. He wasn't fond of her, and she wasn't particularly fond of him, but he had been kind in keeping her safe, even if for a few hours. It was more than most would have done.

Hill looked uncomfortable under her gaze, shifting his eyes around the air. He gave a quick nod before turning back towards the front of the cart and busying himself with the horse's reins. The cold wind blew across her dry cheeks as she sped up and started to jog towards the large doors ahead of the group of thieves and rapers. She trodded her way through the snow in her thin boots, feeling the ice seep into her already numb toes. The brittle air scratched at her lungs as she panted and tried to keep her breath under control. It all felt so massive, so incomparable as the gates grew and came closer.

Finally before the great gate, the dark haired girl tentatively placed her hand on the wood that surrounded the open gate. She could see the blue tips of her fingers and cracked nails starkly against the dark grain of the wood. Sienna felt the emptiness of the gate surrounding her and began to shiver. She pulled her thin coat tighter around her skinny frame before stomping through the threshold.

The training yard felt endless as Sienna stepped through as quickly as she could. A stray wooden sword lay abandoned on the ground as she rushed towards the main stairway of the castle. She threw herself up the stairs, the skin of her heel splitting from the sudden, quick pressure. As she made it to the top, Sienna threw herself in front of the door and came to a sudden stop. It must have been the Lord Commander's door based on the small light coming through the crack beneath it. She could hear voices inside the room, their thick Northern accents making it hard for her to understand what they were saying. The floorboards squeaked underneath Sienna's feet as she shifted nervously from foot to foot.

What if the Lord Commander was cruel? What if he sent her away immediately? Or worse, what if he knew who she was? He would send her straight back to the Red Keep. Right back to the waiting blade of Cersei and Jaime Lannister.

Sienna shook her head. No, the Night's Watch was a band of honourable men. Uncle Tyrion had told her all about it, the glory and the bravery that flowed through the men of the Watch. Yet, upon entering Castle Black, she hadn't seen any of that in the men who had stared at her and practically licked their lips.

Without giving herself time to rethink her choice, Sienna knocked on the old wooden door and immediately heard the voices stop.

She heard footsteps approach the door before it was pulled open. Before Sienna was a young man, no older than herself, wearing a confused look on his face. When he saw her his eyes widened, though not with the hunger of the men outside. Instead, he looked awkward and confused, like he had never planned on seeing another girl again.

 _Stupid girl,_ thought Sienna, mentally berating herself, _He's a man of the Night's Watch. They're not supposed to see girls ever again._

He looked young and handsome, like the heroes in the tales Tyrion had given her. His black, curly hair framed his face nicely and he looked fit. He looked far too young to be the Lord Commander, but what did she really know?

"Are you Lord Commander Mormont?", Sienna asked urgently, standing stiffly in front of the man.

"What?", muttered the man- no, Lord Commander, narrowing his dark eyes at her, though not unkindly.

"I'm Poppy Waters, and I was hoping I could talk to you", started Sienna, beginning to stumble over her words under the intense gaze of the Commander, "I mean- well I understand if you don't have time. I can wait, if that would be better for you. Or I could talk now, right here. I'm not picky-"

"Young lady", called out a voice from behind the dark haired Commander, "I believe you might want to talk to me about whatever matters you've brought instead of my steward."

Sienna snapped her mouth shut, peering around the boy in front of her. Behind him was an older man sitting behind a long, sturdy table covered in papers. His face was lined with age but his lips still turned upward in a soft smile.

"Oh!", Sienna hissed, wanting to smack herself on the head, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Lord Commander. I didn't know- or, I suppose I should have known the Commander wouldn't be someone so young. Wait, I'm not saying you're old! I mean- damn it all."

Sienna pressed the back of her hand to her lips, trying to keep her ramblings from tumbling out of her lips and further embarrassing herself. She felt her cheeks burn, waiting for Mormont to scowl at her and send her away. His steward was certainly expecting it by the way he was wincing.

What he did surprised her, though. Instead of dismissing her, the Lord Commander chuckled, his old face breaking into a grin. Sienna let out a small huff, letting go of the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding in.

"My, it's been years since someone has been so tongue tied in front of me", he chuckled, leaning forward in his chair slightly, "It's rather refreshing. No need to get so red in the face, child."

The Commander turned in his seat to face the steward, the boy Sienna had thoroughly humiliated herself in front of. He stood at attention within a second, keeping an unsure glance on her. "Jon, if you could fetch us some water, please. I think this girl may have a bit of a story to tell."

The boy- Jon- gave a small nod towards the old Commander. Before leaving the room, he cast one last confused look towards Sienna, causing her to sent him a quick glare. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he returned the glare and turned back around and out of the room. She could feel her chest burn from humiliation, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief second before looking back towards the old Commander.

Sienna shifted on her feet, feeling exposed in the silence. She wasn't quite sure what to do now. She couldn't well glare the leader of the Night's Watch into doing what she wanted. The Commander turned towards Sienna, folding his hands in his lap and straightening his back at attention.

"Take a seat", he said quietly, gesturing to the wooden chair in front of the table.

Sienna nodded and scampered into the chair before the Lord Commander, feeling almost like the child she used to be when her Septa was preparing to scold her.

"Now, what is it you're here for, child?" he inquired with his gentle, gruff voice.

Sienna felt her tongue go stiff and stick to the roof of her mouth. She had practiced her answer to this a thousand times over. Yet, under the careful gaze of this man, she felt her story die in her throat.

"Well, you- you see", she began shakily, trying to find the right words, "I was- well, I am- I want to stay here."

The Commanders thick brow rose up at that. He obviously hadn't been expecting that answer. Sienna could feel her body stiffen with shame. She'd completely ruined that introduction.

"I see", he responded slowly, nodding ever so slightly, "Why would you want that?"

"It isn't safe for me where I came from", she responded, her shoulders curling up protectively, "Some people are trying to find me, and I thought Castle Black would be the best place to stay away. They can't find me here."

The Lord Commander's blue eyes fell on her, the lines on his face softening slightly. The look did not bode well for Sienna.

"My dear", began the Lord Commander sadly, "I'm afraid I can't let you stay."

Sienna's chest tightened, not believing what she had heard.

"Wha- what do you mean I can't stay?" she stuttered, placing her hands a little to roughly on the table, "I could- I could cook, clean, help with whatever you need. I wouldn't be a bother, I promise-"

"We don't allow women into Castle Black", interrupted the Lord Commander, obviously trying to sound gentle, "It's simply how it is."

He may sound kind, but his words only infuriated Sienna. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to welcome her with open arms, declaring he would keep her safe for as long as she needed. The steward boy would lead her to a room and she would make a home here until it was safe to go into a town. She was supposed to be safe.

"No."

The older man's eyes snapped up to Sienna in surprise.

"My lady, I'm sorry, but-"

"I'm not a lady", Sienna interjected lamely, feeling her hair fall into her face agin.

Mormont hesitated, his face twisting and wrinkling as he looked down at her. "Poppy", he placated, "I'm so very sorry, but this isn't a matter of my choosing. This is tradition, and we can't simply break-"

"No", spat Sienna, suddenly standing up from her chair, "I won't accept that."

"It's not a matter of accepting", responded the Lord Commander shortly, his patience frayed, "It's a matter of law. There has never been a woman of the Night's Watch, nor shall there ever be. That's just the way it is."

Sienna looked at the man and wanted nothing more than to throw him across the room and punch him in his old, wrinkled face. "Fuck the way it is."

"That is enough', he stated strongly, standing from his chair to meet her gaze as intensely as she was giving it.

"How can you do this?", implored Sienna, her voice rising as she leaned forward with the strongest scowl she could muster, "I told you people are trying to kill me, and you would send me away?"

"Poppy-"

"NO!", she screeched, kicking at the chair beside her out of nowhere, "I've spent over a month on the road. I've been chased, robbed, beaten. My feet have split and spilt more puss than I thought a person could produce. I have tasted blood and spit and seen things that will haunt me every time I shut my eyes, and you mean to turn me away the second you see me? You're no hero. You're just a pile of shit!"

"Hey!", yelled a voice from behind Sienna. Jon must have come back without Sienna noticing. He quickly stepped between the furious girl and his commander, pulling Sienna away from Mormont and towards the door. But Sienna wouldn't let this stand. She pushed against the boy's strong grip around her waist, trying in vain to pull herself away from him. She started to kick and screech, teeth bared and anger nearly spilling out of her.

"I thought the Night's Watch were heroes!", she yelled, kicking and scratching at the steward like a feral cat, "I thought they were supposed to protect people! So why can't you protect me? Huh? If you send me away they are going to kill me and it will be on your order!"

Sienna felt Jon stiffen at her screamed confession and stop moving. His grip was still strong around her waist, but he was no longer trying to throw her out the door. She knew this was her opportunity and went limp, feeling parts of the anger sink into desperation.

"Please", she choked out, trying to keep her tears from spilling and scraping her dignity up as best she could, "I have nowhere else. I'll do anything, just please don't send me away. Please."

Mormont hadn't moved the entire time, instead standing still as a statue. His brow was pulled tight, thinking hard as his blue eyes lay stiffly on her face. He pressed his lips together and glanced over at his steward before sighing, his shoulders curling slightly.

"Jon", he said calmly and quietly, "Take Poppy to the quarters across the hall from yours. You are now charged with her care."

"What?", protested Jon, finally letting go of Sienna as he advanced slightly towards Mormont, "Lord Commander, I can't-"

"You can and you will", boomed Mormont, sending both Jon and Sienna back a step with intimidation, "That is a command, Snow. You will care for her, make sure she is safe here. If anything happens, come straight to me. For now, we are both charged with her care."

Sienna looked at Jon and saw the scowl on his face, but she didn't care. She had handled hatred from her caretakers before, she could handle a moody boy easily.

"And you", said Mormont pointedly, turning towards Sienna, "You will help Jon in all his tasks. You will act as his steward, so to speak. When he doesn't require your help, you will work in the kitchens. We'll figure out where to send you soon."

"Yes", gasped Sienna, nodding her head, "Thank you. I won't disappoint you, I- I promise."

The old man looked down at her stonily, breathing deeply through his nose before turning back towards his desk.

"That will be all", he sighed, keeping his back to the two young people behind him, "Show Miss Waters to her room, Jon. We'll discuss this further tomorrow."

Feeling Jon's grip on her arm tighten slightly, Sienna let herself be dragged away by the steward out of the room and into the cold morning air. His scowl deepened, dark eyes flashing as she pulled her through the icy grounds towards the barracks. She stiffened her arm and pulled back petulantly, wanting to rip her arm straight out of his grip. They made their way into the barracks and towards another flight of stairs. Both of them stomped their way up, still silent and fuming.

Finally, Jon came to a sudden stop in front of a wooden door that looked like it had been in need of repair for several centuries. The dark haired boy rounded on her, dark eyes meeting her green one's with a scowl as if he wished she would run far away from the cold hallway they currently stood in. Instead, she stood as tall as she could, meeting his gaze just barely an inch below him as she wrenched her arm out of his grip.

"You'll be staying here", he grumbled, "I'll be across the hall. Do us both a favor and keep to yourself."

"Won't be an issue", she shot back, her voice deep and gravelly.

The boy looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead swallowed his words and stomped away towards his room. The door practically slammed behind him. Sienna growled slightly before stomping into her own room and slamming the door behind herself. The last sting of the slam rang in her ears as Sienna glared around the room she'd been shoved into haphazardly. The walls were bare and brown, sinking under the weight of the castle. The bedding was grey and heavy and limp. A small metal pit for a fire lay unused in the corner, ash stuck to the insides.

Tears brimmed in her eyes as Sienna sat down slowly onto the rough bed. This was not the story she'd been told, but it was the story she was left with.

* * *

 **A/N: So... I'm alive. But upside, JON AND SIENNA HAVE MET! It's definitely not love at first sight, but they certainly know each other. I figured Jon is kind of a moody little bastard, so he'd be a little pissed to be distracted by some random chick. And Sienna is certainly not falling head over heels for him right now. But trust me, we are gonna have some fun with these two idiots.**

 **Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967: I updated! Hope you like it!**

 **EmpireReign: I did it!**

 **xXxLaLaxXx: I'm so happy you're liking this! I love this story and I can't wait to show you where it's gonna go.**

 **FoAteAZombie: She made it to the wall! Hope you're liking it!**

 **OldBeen1107: YES GIRL! GIVE ME THOSE BROADWAY VIBES! And I'm always happy to answer a question :D**

 **UmiNight Angel Neko: My girlie is a fighter, but she ain't big on killing so far.**

 **55: I love curiosity questions. Her health is always going to be an issue, and due to the way she's developed she'll always look pretty unhealthy. But her looks will definitely change due to circumstance ;)**

 **ZabuzasGirl: I will update as quickly as I can. Is is possible to blame college classes for my late updates?**

 **Miss Luny: Girl, so do I :D**


	7. Men's Clothes

The cold air was barely held at bay by the fire in the corner as Jon paced around his room. The morning light turned to it's usual grey far too quickly for his liking. The old wood creaked beneath his feet as he finally came to a slow stop. It had been nearly an hour since he'd left the dark haired girl in her room and he knew he would be required to keep her at his side all day.

The girl's face flickered through his head. Her thick brows and heavy dark hair framed nothing but a sharp face and dressed in little but trousers, boots and a limp coat. How she had survived the journey up to the wall, he had very few ideas.

As the barest streaks of light seeped through the frozen window, Jon resigned himself to his fate. With a scowl, he grabbed his coat from his cot and made his way into the hall. The creaking of the floors followed him out of the room and into the hall. He crossed over to the room he'd left Poppy in and knocked on the door. The sound reverberated and was met with only silence. Feeling annoyance pricking at his skin, Jon knocked again more insistently.

"Miss Waters, you need to come out", he called out, barely holding in a groan.

Once again, no voice responded. Now fully scowling, Jon grumbled under his breath as he pushed the door open himself. He turned his eyes away as the door creaked open, careful to make sure he didn't see anything he wasn't supposed to.

"Miss Waters", he called out carefully, shifting on his feet ever so slightly, "I need you to come out. I have duties to attend to."

Jon kept his eyes turned away but was met with silence. Annoyance built in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Knocking on the open door, he turned his gaze into the room slowly. What he was met with was an empty room and an open window, letting frigid air seep into the stone and wood.

"Seven Hells", Jon muttered angrily under his breath, stepping into the room and towards the window. He noted that the room was barely touched, almost as if no one had been there at all. Barely even a footprint in the dust. He leaned out, the wind biting deep into his skin as he scanned the ground beneath him. Turning his head directly down, Jon saw a tangled mass of dark hair huddled against the side of the building.

"What in Seven Hells are you doing?", he yelled, staring down incedulously at her shivering form, "You'll freeze to death."

She didn't move, instead curling closer in on herself. A violent tremor betrayed how cold she was. Muttering under his breath, Jon pushed away from the window and dashed into his own chambers. He quickly snatched his cloak off of a rack beside his bed before turning quickly towards the hallway and running down the stairs.

As he threw open the door and made his way down towards the grounds, Jon craned his neck to try and catch sight of the girl he was now unfortunately charged with. Finally reaching the ground, he turned around the corner of the building and saw Poppy huddled against the wall, eyes wide as she stared out into the grey morning.

"Are you insane?", Jon demanded, stomping towards her with is cloak in hand, "You'll freeze to death out here."

The dark haired girl shrugged, still staring out into nothing as her face sunk deeper into a scowl. "I made it all the way here without dying. Thought I'd try my luck."

Heaving a sigh, Jon held out his cloak to her. "Please put this on. If your luck runs out, it's my head on the line."

The girl turned her gaze up to him, green eyes boring into him with something close to anger in them. Keeping her eyes locked with his, she snatched the cloak from his hand and quickly wrapped it around her shoulders. She shivered, sinking into the warmth almost desperately as she pushed herself up to her feet.

Up close, he could see the details of her more clearly. The first thing that hit him was the smell. The scent of piss and dirt clung to her skin. She had not bathed in what must have been weeks. Her skin was coated in grime and was stained an ugly yellow-brown color. Her green eyes were set deep like a skeletons, and her skin was thin and see through. Her bones nearly stuck straight through her skin, permanently ready to rip through her and send her crumbling to the ground. Merely a hair shorter than himself, she stood gangly and with practiced balance before him. The scowl that she was shooting him seemed like a permanent fixture to her face. There was little joy to be seen anywhere on her. She was more ghost than girl.

Keeping his eyes on her, Jon straightened himself up and tugged the cloak tighter around her frame. Like a spooked animal, Poppy ripped herself out of his grip and put a few inches of distance between the two of them. Heaving a sigh, Jon complied and did not reach out again.

"You need a bath", he stated simply, turning his head towards the barracks to make sure no one was waking yet, "If I take you now, you can finish before any of the men wake."

"Afraid I'll start a riot?", she muttered, looking small despite her height.

Jon hesitated before shaking off the question. "Just go bathe. You'll do us both a favor."

"Charming", she bit back, but still followed where he pointed. She dragged her feet across the frosty ground, clamoring towards the bath house as if she were only half balanced on her small feet. He watched as she nearly slipped several times on patches of ice. She'd never been north before, it was painfully clear. She had no clue how to walk, how to stay upright amongst the frost. Just before she stepped on another patch of ice, Jon reached out and gripped her arm, tugging her back as gently as he could. As he pulled her back, Poppy thrashed out of his grip like a wild animal, a quivering hiss escaping her lips.

"Keep your hands off me", she spat, her crooked nose scrunched up and shoulders hunched up protectively.

Jon retracted his hand immediately. He watched as she took a defiant step away from him, her small foot barely missing the patch she'd nearly fallen over moments ago. He took a deep breath, keeping himself calm and polite despite the urge to spit right back at her, meeting her words with his own. But that was not his duty. His duty was to watch her, lug her around like some petulant child.

"I was just keeping you from-"

"I don't care", she cut him off, "I don't- just keep your hands to yourself. It's not that difficult."

Jon huffed, keeping his lips pressed together. "If you'll just go into the bath house, I'll bring you some clothes. There's hot water ready, the Lord Commander sent for it."

The girls green eyes flicked over to the bath house that was only a few steps away. Jon noticed her shudder, twitch heavily under the cold air. He ducked his head and stepped around Poppy, reaching out and tugging the door open. Before he could even turn his head to gesture her in, Poppy had stomped right past him and grabbed hold of the door.

"If you could leave now", she forced out, keeping her eyes on the ground, "I'd- I'd appreciate it."

Jon watched as her shoulders shook, unsure of what to do or whether he should help. "I could stay outside the door if you-"

"Stop being f-fucking polite and leave."

The pale girl's outburst threw Jon. His lips snapped open and shut, a retort ready in his throat. Jon's chest contracted, a burning feeling ripping through it as the skeletal girl sneered over at him before slamming the door in his face. The door nearly hit his nose as he took a startled step back. He held back the urge to slam his fists into the door. With a barely restrained growl, Jon turned on his heel to gather clothes.

* * *

Sienna stood shock still for a moment, letting the slam of the door ring through the empty bath house. The wood and stone swallowed little and the sting of the sound hit her ears with little mercy. She felt muscles move of their own accord, tugging her shoulders up and forward almost painfully. It was sudden, violent. The smell of her own skin made her want to vomit and her insides were tying themselves into knots.

Her breath ragged, Sienna threw herself forward through the room and towards the nearest tub, falling into it fully clothed. Her shaking fingers reached out and pulled one of the buckets of hot water over the lip and poured it over her legs. The weight only made it harder to lift alongside her cracking muscles. The heat seared through her heavy pants and singed her skin. Streaks of brown and red seeped from the fabric into the practically boiling water. A small cry escaped her lips, swallowed only by the bile threatening to spill into her mouth.

The water barely reached up to her hips. The burning in her body was steady but painful. Reaching over once again, Sienna lifted the next bucket with shaking arms. She repeated it again and again until each bucket had been emptied and the water reached all the way up to her shoulders. The scalding water loosened her back, fighting the spasms as best it could. The taste of bile and blood stuck under her tongue like paste. She could feel her back twitch and spasm in small doses.

She couldn't let the steward see her like this. Jon would be all too pleased to run back to the Lord Commander and say she was a lost cause just to make sure she wasn't an annoyance anymore. And if Hill had been telling the truth about the men who manned Castle Black, she couldn't show an ounce of weakness. They were hungry, and they'd eat her alive if she let them. But she just couldn't believe that. She wouldn't let herself.

Sienna sunk deeper into the hot water, spitting the trails of bile over the side of the tub. She felt her tunic and coat sticking to her skin. She looked down to see the water had turned brown. The stench that had clung to her body for weeks floated off of the water with the steam. Lifting a hand out of the murky water, Sienna ran her fingernails over her skin, digging the grime off and leaving four nearly stark white lines down her arm.

Gods, she had been so stupid to come here.

Sienna took in another ragged breath, trying to keep herself under control. Her eyes burned, though tears weren't a threat. Her face felt hot, her insides twisting in and out with an anger she hadn't known was there.

Taking her focus off of the twisted feeling in her guts, Sienna set to work trying to untangle herself from her soaked clothes. As she discarded them onto the floor, they landed with a thick slopping sound. She scrubbed at her skin with her palms, working the mud out of her hair and shit out from her skin. She scrubbed furiously at her face, the barest traces of red sliding down her palms as she did. The thought of what had clung to her skin made her stomach lurch in protest. The water turned a thick yellow color before long and the heat receded, leaving Sienna with only lukewarm pisswater.

With no dirt or blood left to scrub away, Sienna sunk into the water and listened to the silence in the large, open room. Her eyes roamed around, taking note of the notches and dents in the walls. Every inch of the room screamed that large, boastful men lived here. Only men like her father left a place knocked about with no regard. She curled deeper into herself as the grey light sunk into the stones around her.

Not too long after, Sienna heard a soft knock at the door. She whipped her head towards the noise, her hair dragging through the water as she did.

"Miss Waters, I have clothes for you."

Sienna sighed, the false name making her feel almost sad as she pushed herself out of the tub. The cold air assaulted her wet skin like knives, cutting her straight to the bone. She hissed, pushing herself over the lip. The cold stones nearly made her jump as her still wrapped feet hit the ground. Still naked, she nervously covered her chest and center with her arms, walking awkwardly towards the door. She slowly opened it, keeping herself out of sight. She stood behind it, hiding her whole body behind the structure and sticking her hand out the crack in the door. The outside air made her hand feel as if it were contracting and shrinking. The clothes were in her hands in a second. She quickly gripped the materials and thrust them into the room, slamming the door shut as quickly as she could. She looked down at the pile in her hands to see that it was all black. Mens clothes and a cloak that would most certainly be at least two sizes too big for her.

Sienna sighed, dropping the pile onto the ground and padding over the the still wet pile she'd left by the tub to grab her undergarments. They clung to her skin and sent shivers up her back. Keeping herself stiff, she stepped back to the pile of dry clothes and tugged them on as quickly as she could. She laced up her trousers and tunic, pulling on the layers clumsily. She'd never worn so much in her life. The cloak hung heavy on her thin shoulders as she clasped it around herself. The boots were definitely an improvement, though. No longer thin and broken, these kept her feet from feeling the scrapes of stone beneath her.

Fully dressed, the dark haired girl sucked in a deep breath before reaching out and opening the door. Her eyes flicked to the side to see Jon standing ready at the edge of the door. His dark eyes caught hers for a moment before he straightened his spine.

"You'll be following me around today", he stated simply, as if the words themselves were a barely restrained annoyance, "Morning training begins in an hour, so I'll leave you in the kitchens for the time being."

Sienna could do nothing but nod, still cold from the wetness that clung to her skin and hair. She shifted her feet, feeling her blisters scrape against the the old wrappings. She held back a groan of pain, swallowing the sound.

"Do you- uh, do you have any fresh wraps?", she stammered, "My feet, they- well, the journey was…"

Jon's eyes flicked down to her feet, his lips pursed with what could only be ire. He took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes. I'll take you to the Maester. Just- uh, follow me."

The boy nodded his head towards what must have been the Maester's chambers. He turned stiffly, hesitating for a second to make sure she was following him. Sienna fell into step behind him, her feet aching with each step. She followed him through the training yard and towards what looked to be a roosting place for the castle's ravens. Sienna felt her brows pull together as he took her through the roost and towards a door at the far end. He knocked at the door and stood at attention while he waited for an answer. Sienna followed suit, straightening her back as best she could to try and look presentable. Still shifting her posture, Sienna saw the door creak open to reveal a man in thick black clothes that tumbled over a thick belly and heavy neck. He was most certainly not the image Tyrion had given her so many times before of the so called heroes at the Wall.

The man, no older than Jon or herself, immediately noticed Jon and sent him a surprised smile. "Jon, what are you doing here so early? Don't tell me someone finally managed to smack you in training."

Jon ducked his head. Sienna couldn't see his reaction. Clearly the other man hadn't noticed her yet behind his friend.

"No, not today", Jon shifted, turning to reveal the girl behind him, "She- well, she needs some wrappings."

The heavy boy's eyes fell on her, and they immediately widened almost comically. Whatever he was going to respond with died on his tongue as he continued to stare at her. Sienna felt her shoulders pull in nervously. Her frown deepened as she glared at him. How stupid were these men that they couldn't comprehend even the image of a woman?

Her sharp glare seemed to snap him out of his daze. The other man shook his head and waved her in. "Um, yeah- yes. Yes, come in please. I'll, uh…"

Sienna's eyes flicked over to Jon, watching to see if he would enter first. Instead, he stood by the door and gestured her inside. His jaw was tight and he kept his eyes away from her.

Sienna limped in and turned her head to look around. The walls were lined with books and the tables with ingredients for medicines and gauzes. Small stains of dried up blood were barely scrubbed away, though clearly not for lack of trying. It was all painstakingly organized, everything kept in what was clearly it's proper place. It was so different from the maesters chambers in the Red Keep. This place seemed to be held with care.

"I'm Sam, by the way."

Sienna pulled herself out of her observation to look back over at the steward. His chubby face was smiling awkwardly over at her. He waved his hand jerkily, his shoulders partially shrugged. The girl simply looked at him, her body stiff and unsure of how to respond. Sam seemed to understand and pulled his hand back towards his side, seeming to be uncomfortable in the silence. Sienna saw Jon ducking his head out of the corner of her eye. It all felt tilted and far too quiet. The whole room was tight with it.

"Well, uh", Sam warbled, shifting from side to side, "You said you need wrappings- well, Jon said. You haven't, well, spoken."

Sam's chuckle died out in the silence. The two darked haired companions simply stared at him after his rather limp attempt at humor. He seemed to brush it off rather quickly, instead turning towards Sienna with a gentle look on his soft face.

"You need wrappings", he stated softly, gesturing towards a table not too far behind him, "Please take a seat. I'll help you as best I can."

Sienna felt her face soften at his gentle instruction. She nodded, following his direction and propping herself up onto the table. She felt the tips of her boots scrape against the stone floor as her feet dangled. Hesitantly, she reached down to begin unlacing her boots. Hair fell over her face as she tugged off the leather shoes. The smell of puss spilled out almost immediately. The wrappings were worse than she remembered. They were stained a thick yellow-brown color with spots of red in between the toes and across the edge of her heel. Sienna felt her neck heat up as the smell spread. She didn't dare look at the men's faces, the image of their disgusted faces already clear in her mind.

"Oh, my", Sam muttered, his voice concerned, "Well, you definitely need better wrappings. Do you mind if I…"

She saw him point vaguely towards her feet, and Sienna quickly nodded. She watched him kneel down and sit on a stool that he seemed to have procured when she wasn't looking. Sam gently took one foot in his hand and delicately began unwrapping the vomit inducing gauze. It crackled and snapped apart from the dry puss holding it together like paste. As he unwound it, Sienna felt strips of her skin coming off with it. She hissed at the sting, feeling her bare flesh rip away from the skin.

With the wrappings discarded, all that was left was the gruesome leftovers of her feet. Flaps of skin hung limp off of her foot like curtains on a windless day. Blood was caked in between her toes. The puss had crusted over what remained of her skin and stained it an ugly yellow color. Circular pockets of ripped apart blisters were bright red and oozing.

Sienna couldn't stop her eyes from flicking over to the men around her. Jon looked almost horrified at the state of her feet, and Sam was more concerned than anything else. His brows furrowed together as if he were trying to piece her limb back together in his head.

"Gods, did you walk all the way here?"

The dark haired girl's eyes flicked back over to Jon, who couldn't seem to understand how she had become so mutilated. She simply shrugged, keeping her green eyes on him.

"It's a long way from Flea Bottom", she muttered simply.

"So you do talk", Sam chuckled, giving her a small smile, "But you walked all the way from Flea Bottom? No wonder you look the way you do."

"What's wrong with the way I look?", Sienna snapped, turning her gaze on the chubby boy beside her.

His eyes widened, lips flapping open and shut like a fish. "Noth- uh, nothing. I mean- the feet, they- well, they're- you clearly need attention and you- you never mentioned you name…"

Sienna hunched her shoulders, turning her gaze away from Sam. "Poppy. Poppy Waters."

"Well, it's, um, very nice to meet you, Poppy", he muttered politely, reaching over for an ointment not too far from his reach, "Your feet look worse than they are. Maybe a week of care and all you'll have are a few blister scars. Are there any other injuries I need to know about?"

She felt her face slacken under the rather lukewarm question. "Doesn't my face give you the answer?"

His eyes flicked down to her nose, still a faint purple to match the darker bruises blooming from under her hairline. They still felt sore from the men slamming her head into the dirt less than a day before. He tried once again with the smiling, which unfortunately did nothing for Sienna. She simply turned her gaze away from him, keeping it on the floor in front of her. She heard him sigh before feeling him gently lift up her foot and placing it on a stool he must have snatched up a moment ago. He kept babbling, talking her through her injuries and how he was trying to treat them. It was all noise, passing through her ears as if it were nothing. Soon she felt new wrappings being ties around her feet

"Well- uh, all of those should heal on their own in time", he muttered nervously, curling under her gaze before turning back towards Jon, "Where did you find her?"

"She ended up outside the Lord Commander's chambers, all I saw was her throwing a chair across the room."

"I threw a chair because your precious Lord Commander was about to send me out just because I have a cunt", Sienna spat, glaring at the dark haired man in front of her, "And I can speak for myself, thank you."

He glared right back at her, keeping his dark eyes level. "You can speak for yourself when you tell us anything that makes any sense. All you've given us is half truths and vague statements."

Pressing her lips together indignantly, Sienna crossed her arms and leaned back. She knew there was little she could say without giving herself away. Instead, she kept Jon's gaze. Neither of them flinched, the only movement coming from Sam nervously looking back and forth between them. It seemed as if both of them could have continued to sneer at each other for as long as they pleased had it not been for the shout coming not too far from the chambers. The voice was deep and aggravated, practically scraping Sienna ears even from through a wall. She turned her head slightly to try and catch the shouts better. Jon, on the other hand, practically bristled at the sound. He heaved a sigh, turning his head to Sam.

"I suppose training starts early today", Sam provided weakly. Jon sent him a tired glance before almost worriedly looking back over at the girl in front of him. Sam seemed to catch on. "You can't take her out there with you."

"You think I don't know that", he grumbled, "I was going to take her to the kitchens before the men woke, but…"

"But they came out early for once in their lives", Sam completed, frowning over at his friend, "I mean- you could leave her here. No one ever comes in unless they've been stabbed or something."

Jon whipped his head around, face almost relieved in a way that made Sienna feel offended. "Could you? At least for today?"

Jon then turned his head towards Sienna, sternly looking her in the eyes. "Stay here. Sam will look after you for at least a few hours. Don't throw anything across the room."

"Shouldn't be a problem", she shrugged, leaning back onto the stone wall behind her.

She watched as Jon seemed to bite back a comment before turning on his heel towards the door. The door shut with a creek behind him, leaving Sienna alone with Sam, who was now nervously twiddling his thumbs.

"You can look at me, you know."

The man looked up at her comment, face turning a faint shade of pink as he did. "Yes- yes, I know. It's just, you see, none of us has been- has seen a girl for a very long time. I think we've forgotten the rules of it."

Sienna felt her shoulders curl in slightly. "Rules? There shouldn't be rules, just don't do anything… disturbing."

"Nothing disturbing, understood", Sam confirmed, nodding his head eagerly before blushingly turning towards his table and setting to work.

Sienna shrugged it off, sliding off of the table and gently placing her feet on the ground. The new wrappings pressed into her open wounds, though not nearly as painfully as the old ones had. She tentatively stepped around the chamber, feeling Sam's eyes on her every few seconds. She couldn't help but feel the cold seep back into the room along with the silence.

"I- uh, I have to help Maester Aemon up in his chambers soon."

Sienna's eyes flicked over to the chubby man across from her. She shrugged as casually as she could muster. "It's fine. I'll be here, pretending I don't exist."

"Well, I mean, you do exist", Sam blustered nervously, "I'll only be gone around an hour. I'll bring food with me when I come back."

"It's really fine", the girl insisted, pointing towards the chamber door, "Go on. No need to get in trouble on my account."

Sam looked as if he was about to protest again, but simply nodded and sent her a nervous smile before turning towards the door. The sound of it creaking closed left Sienna all alone for what must have been the thousandth time.

Sienna scowled over at the closed door. She was really beginning to get tired of it.

* * *

 **A/N: Well... hello. Glad to see you're all here. I have a really nice explanation for the long wait: mental health. Mine's not the best and let's just say that lovely depression hit me like a sledgehammer. Luckily I have the next chapter halfway done, so I hope it will be done soon enough. Plus I've got a whole month of school off in a few weeks. But hey, hope you all like it!**

 **youngbones7: My heart. This is literally the comment that got me off my ass to finish this chapter.**

 **10868letsgo: Robert definitely had regrets about his relationship with his daughter, but he would be more focused on his "son" Joffrey. Misogyny runs deep. And no, there really is no cure for Sienna. She just has to learn ways to cope with her condition and move forward.**

 **HPuni101: Tada! New chapter! Little bit of Jon and Sienna interaction. As you can see, they're not each other's biggest fans right now.**

 **sophiewhettingsteel: You are correct. In real life things would be very different, but I try to make her illness a central point of her character that affects how she has to deal with the world. Also your comment made me so happy thank you!**

 **Kat272001: Updated! Are you proud?**

 **TheGrandTootah: Charity really is nasty. The septa, not the concept.**


	8. The Men

The hour passed on the same. Quiet. Cold.

Then the hour passed on into another. Again, just the same. The sounds of wooden swords had drowned into a dull noise that pounded at the edges of her skull and Sienna was left with nothing but the mildew and dust surrounding her in the empty chambers.

Sienna wandered aimlessly around the room, memorizing it the same way she'd memorized the Red Keep. Her feet protested as she moved around, forcing her to limp around while trying not to keep too much weight on one foot or the other. She ran her fingers over every surface. The tables, the cabinets, the chests, the spines of books. Each edge and curve was carefully set to memory. It was all she had to do, anyway.

Mindlessly, the dark haired girl plucked one of the books off of the shelf and had been reading it for all of ten minutes before the creak of the door opening made her snap her head up. Sam came shuffling through, arms laden with two bowls of stew. As he stepped in, his eyes fell on the heavy book in her hands, eyebrows rising slightly in surprise.

"I thought you- uh, you might be hungry", he stated dumbly, setting the bowls on a table near him, "That's Anatomy of Dragons. It's- uh, well, it's the most recent edition, meaning it's at least a century old. If you're interested in that sort of thing."

Sienna narrowed her eyes at the chubby man, gently shutting the book and holding it against her chest. "Actually, it's one hundred and thirty two years old. It was written by the maester of Aegon III."

"How do you know that?", Sam inquired, eyebrows knitting together, "Not that I think you shouldn't, it's just- it's the kind of obscure thing only someone like me would care about."

"Actually, I read it years ago", she muttered, sliding the book back onto the shelf almost embarrassingly, "My uncle gave it to me and I finished it within a few days."

"That's... rather impressive."

She felt her shoulders hunch slightly. Sienna averted her gaze and stuttered out a response. "It's- it's nothing. Just something I'd do to pass the time."

"No it's…", he interrupted, his soft face lighting up in excitement, "I think you might be the only one here that would ever care to read about those things."

Sienna's brows lifted amicably. She felt her feet scuff against the stone floor.

"You must be bored out of your mind."

"No. No, not at all", Sam insisted with a smile, "Maester Aemon's been teaching me, well, practically everything. Medicine, healing, just… everything."

The image of being taught, guided and cared for made the girls chest feel heavy. "Must be nice having someone to teach you things."

"Yes, actually", Sam looked excitedly over at her, as if he were ecstatic to be talking to someone about it. Based on how the men of Castle Black had been presented to her, that didn't surprise her. "Though I suppose you wouldn't- I- I mean no offence. It's just, well, you're from Flea Bottom and- and I know that usually you aren't able to receive-"

"It's fine, you can quit rambling", Sienna cut him off, holding up both hands, "I just… I learned on my own."

Sam sighed. "Well, at least I'll finally have someone to talk to about these things besides the Maester."

The simple statement made Sienna's eyes dart over to the fat boy across the room from her. His voice had been even, simple. Nothing made her guess whether he were lying, though every bit of her whispered that he must be. No one ever stayed long enough to really talk over things, save her uncle. But the earnest look on Sam's face forced the corner of her lips to twitch up slightly, a slight heat in her cheeks at the thought of being listened to.

She quickly tugged her lips back down, but Sam clearly caught the small inflection. His earnest smile tugged higher on his cheeks.

"Oh, you do smile", he teased, taking a tentative step towards her, "That's a relief. Thought you'd be another Jon, all brooding and glaring all the time."

The slight upward tick quickly fell down. She narrowed her eyes at Sam. "I don't glare all the time."

"I've seen you make two expressions in the collective hour I've known you. That one small smile, and an awful lot of glaring."

Sienna rolled her eyes, feeling her lips pull down into what Sam must have seen as another glare considering the light chuckle she heard from him. As she opened her lips to give a retort, she was interrupted by the muffled sounds of a man yelling in the grounds. Sienna turned her head slightly to hear better, her brows knitting together as the sound of wooden swords stopped as the volume of the man's yells grew.

"Are- are they done?"

"What? Oh, no." Sam shrugged, "Thorne's just trying to break them. It's his favorite pastime. Probably talking about how he had to eat someone during the last winter."

Sienna's head whipped around, her eyes wide and mouth gaping. "He ate someone? Meaning he ate another person?"

"He told Jon and I about it. Mentioned that they could have lasted weeks on me."

"What a fucking pig."

"There's another thing you and Jon can talk about. Glaring and hating Thorne."

Scoffing, the dark haired girl shifted her weight to give her left foot a rest. "I highly doubt Jon will want to talk to me about anything, even if it is to take the piss out of this Thorne person."

Sam's expression fell slightly, a look of what looked a bit like guilt flashing over his features. He knotted his fingers together nervously, eyes flicking from the floor to her eyes a few times before he opened his mouth. "Jon's just… like that when he meets people. He didn't really like me when we met, though he was nicer to me than anyone else."

"That's not saying much." Sienna retorted.

"Suppose not", he sighed, unlacing his fingers with a displeased look, "Just give him a chance."

As she opened her mouth to respond, Sienna was quickly interrupted by the sound of a man crying out. She snapped her head around towards the sound, knowing full well she was only going to be met with a blank wall. Her sarcastic comment died on her lips at the rather painful sounding grunt that had just been heard, muffled by the stone walls.

"What in seven hells was that?"

"Grenn must have been knocked on his ass again", Sam muttered, already turning towards the table behind him and snatching up wrappings hastily, "He's big but he's thick as a troll. Oh, seven hells, his head is bleeding again. I'll have to patch him up."

As Sienna watched Sam scramble around to grab whatever he may need, an idea popped into her head. Her jaw slackened slightly before she deliberately straightened her back and made her way over to the larger boy.

"I can help", Sienna piped hopefully.

"Oh, yes", he snorted, a joking smile on his lips, "Of course."

"I'm serious", she insisted, holding herself up taller than she was, "I know a good deal about medicine. I can be useful, just let me go out there and-"

"No, you can't go out there", Sam cut her off, looking utterly serious.

"Why?", the dark haired girl hissed, feeling her hands ball into fists with frustration, "It'll be hard to miss that a girl is around here for long, might as well start now."

"No, it's just…", he couldn't seem to find the words, like he was trying to remember exactly what to say, "We thought it would be better if you stayed quiet for as long as-"

"You mean you and Jon decided to keep me locked up in some dusty chamber where no one ever shows their faces", Sienna cut him off, quickly plopping down onto the nearest stool and beginning to tug her boots back onto her mangled feet, "I'm not a fucking kept woman, you can't keep me here."

"I'm- neither of us said you were", Sam whined lamely, "It's just, Jon was concerned about what the men would-"

"What the men would think of him being trailed by some ugly girl like a shadow?"

"That's not what-"

"I'm not Jon Snow's shadow, I am his steward." Sienna stated, her eyes boring into Sam's with what she hoped was confidence, "The Lord Commander said so and Jon cannot keep me in the dark whenever it pleases him."

Sam simply stared dumbly down at her. Taking his silence as agreement- or at least a lack of ability to say no- Sienna leaned down and finished lacing up her boots. With a final tug, she knotted the laces together before pushing herself back up and limping over to the table. She tugged on the cloak she'd been given, snatched up the remaining wrappings and a jar of what was clearly ointment, tucking both into the crook of her elbow.

"What- what are you doing?"

Sienna shrugged, keeping her face firm. "I'm going to wrap that man's wound, what does it look like?"

"That's not the best idea-"

"Fuck best ideas, I'm doing my job."

With that, she stomped- or limped- out of the room, slamming the chamber door behind her and right into Sam's face. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way towards the courtyard and the sounds of the men yelling over each other. She clutched the supplies closer into her side as she tried to walk as straight as possible. The men came into view, as did their stench. The smell of sweat made her nose burn as Sienna approached them. One of the men- Grenn, she guessed- was clutching his nose with blood running out from between his fingers. Sienna made a course straight for him.

The first man to catch sight of her was standing beside Grenn, his eyes widening as he took her in. Dumbly, he smacked the man beside him. His look was similar Then, one by one, each of the men turned towards her, a stricken and almost intoxicated look in their eyes. It made Sienna feel cold, like their looks were sinking into her bones. Her steps slowed for a moment, her body freezing up as the felt their eyes on her. The last pair of eyes she saw were Jon's, his dark eyes wide as he immediately rushed over to her.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, grabbing her arm roughly.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Instead, she kept her eyes on the men. She'd never had so many people looking at her in her life. The eyes seemed to be boring into her. Everything in her told her to rip her arm from Jon's grasp, fix her face into a strong mask and go do what she was here to do. Make her place here at Castle Black, prove her worth. But her body didn't listen to her, instead seeming to shrink into itself and become smaller than she already was.

A man with thin, longer hair stared at her, his mouth gaping open. "Snow. Who is this?"

Jon stared back, mouth pressed into a firm line as he took in the people around him. His eyes shifted to a taller man with grey hair and a hard face. He glared back at Jon, venom laced in his eyes. The look alone made Sienna realize that this was Thorne.

Several men came up from the back, almost clawing their way forward. The longer haired man's eyes widened, shifting to Jon in a warning look. The man with the hard face held up his hand, making every man freeze.

"Did I say training was over?" the man sneered, rounding on the men, "I didn't realize that seeing one woman would turn you all into slack jawed schoolboys."

His head snapped back towards Jon, who was shifting himself in front of Sienna. His look became even more disgusted. "Snow. Take the girl somewhere she won't distract our men."

Jon nodded stiffly, shifting his grip on her arm and starting to move her away when another voice rose from the crowd.

"What the fuck, bastard?" a man, stout and covered in a patchy beard, spat out, "Is Mormont letting you keep a whore around now?"

The man beside him spat on the ground, narrowing his eyes at the pair. "If anyone's gettin' whore's round here, it should be rangers. Not bloody stewards!"

"I'm-", Sienna spat out weakly, trying to glare at the man, "I'm not a whore."

Somehow, the sound of her voice shook the men out of whatever hold Thorne had put on them. Many of them began yelling over each other, calling out to her and suggesting ways she should disrobe for them. A few averted their eyes, humiliated to be seeing a woman. Then they began to break ranks. Thorne barked at the men, spit flying from his lips. Some reached out, ready to paw at her skin. Others seemed to try and run up at her. Sienna immediately scrambled back, dropping most of the supplies in her arms onto the ground. Her heel caught onto a patch of ice, nearly sending her tumbling to the ground.

Jon immediately had her wrapped up in his arms, ducking her head beneath his arm to keep her face from view. He yelled at the men to stay back, that she was not to be touched. But Sienna couldn't hear the details. It was all just a cacophony of shouts and disgusting language that she'd never heard before. The taller man lead her away from them, dragging her through the training yard back towards what appeared to be the armory. She welcomed the sudden dryness of the room, feeling like there was a barrier between herself and the gazes of the men just outside the threshold. The heavy wooden door slammed behind them, cutting off the sounds outside.

He rounded on her, but somehow no sound left his lips. His dark eyes bore into her, she could feel it. But Sienna kept her head ducked, clutching onto the gauze she had managed to keep hold of. The material hung limp and useless in her arms.

"What were you thinking?" he growled, looking like he wanted nothing more than to throw something across the room, "You can't just go out there, in the middle of all of them. Not without me or Sam."

Sienna's shoulders shook slightly. She prayed to the gods that he couldn't see. "I… I heard that one of the men had a broken nose. I thought-"

"You thought wrong", Jon cut her off, running his hands angrily through his hair, "I left you in that chamber for a reason."

"I'm not some broom you can put away whenever you like", the dark haired girl bit back.

"I never said you were", Jon retaliated, "But you can't just go out into the training yard, no explanations. You could have gotten hurt, or worse. If I wasn't there-"

"Says quite a bit about your so called brothers."

Jon froze at that comment, eyes falling on Sienna once again. His posture was tense, like he was fighting between arguing back at her or relenting. Her gaze lifted up to him, green eyes wide and burning in the corners. She was in no way sure what to do, and it was clear he had no clue either. Neither of them was prepared for this.

"I don't like being locked up", Sienna muttered, her voice shaking slightly, though she hoped he thought it was from the cold, "You can't just leave me in whatever space you like when you don't want to look at me."

Slowly, the man nodded. His face was hard, eyes flicking towards the door that held the men of the Night's Watch at bay. "It's not that I don't want to see you. You just… came at a strange time. They're not all horrible. The men. I promise, they're not. When things calm down, I'll introduce you to some men, people I trust."

Sienna remained silent. He sighed, keeping his distance. "Alright, I'll… uh, I should get to my duties. Training's over. You can come with me if you want."

"No", Sienna responded weakly, her body feeling heavy, "No, I won't get in the way."

"Poppy-"

"No, I clearly…", she couldn't find the words, making her feel like giving up on language altogether, "I won't."

Jon sighed, looking up as if for some guidance. He didn't seem to find any, instead letting his eyes drop back to her with some resignation. "I'll find some duties for you. Out of sight, for now. The Lord Commander should have come up with a place for you by now. I can… I can take you to him. If you'd like."

Finally nodding, Sienna took a small step towards Jon and followed him out the back entrance of the armory. The stale air evaporated back into the numbing cold of the outside. She wrapped her arms around herself, the cloak barely keeping the cold away on it's own. Jon kept watch for men, but few came their way. And if they spotted one they were staring from a distance. Jon said that they were probably already threatened with latrine duty by Thorne. But all Sienna could think about was the way those men looked at her. Hungry and alarming. They were no heroes. But she had nowhere else to run.


	9. Episodes

"What's it like having a girl to yourself?"

Jon felt his jaw stop moving mid-bite, the bread in his mouth swallowed quickly and a little painfully. His eyes shot up to Grenn, nose still dark blue from his latest break. His eyes were wide and his voice was hushed, trying to keep the other men outside of their table from listening. Luckily for him, most of the men had retired to the barracks, leaving only a few left still eating the last remnants of food. Pyp seemed even more invested than Grenn, if that was possible. Sam blushed a deep red to the tips of his ears, burying himself in his stew. Edd elbowed him straight in the ribs, a gesture Jon appreciated.

"She's not my girl", Jon deadpanned, tired of explaining, "She's my steward. Lord Commander Mormont put her under my care."

"Yeah, you've told us that bit", Grenn groaned, leaning forward onto his elbows, "But what's it like being around a girl so much. I've nearly forgotten."

Jon shoved another bite of bread in his mouth. "Then keep forgetting."

"Oh, come on!" Pyp whined, tossing his spoon into the bowl of grey-colored stew in front of him, "You can't just spend all day with a girl and not tell us anything about her. I thought we were brothers!"

"As your brother, I ask you to both shut up and let me eat in peace", Edd grumbled, shoveling another helping of stew into his mouth.

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell them a bit about Poppy", Sam mumbled sheepishly, "She's nice. To me, at least."

Jon snapped his head over to Sam. His eyes narrowed, daring Sam to keep speaking. Of course, his friend quickly flushed red again and turned his attention back to his food. Jon had no desire to feed into his friends fantasies about what Poppy was doing with him. Besides, the last word he would use to describe her would be nice. However, it seemed that the subject still wasn't dropped.

"Bloody hell", Edd spat, "Just tell them what they want to hear, Snow. Get the fuckers to shut it and leave the rest of us in peace."

All eyes turned on Jon. He could feel them boring into him, both Pyp and Grenn leaning so far forward he wondered briefly if they would break the table. Edd looked bored with the whole thing and Sam simply looked curious. The whole thing made his skin prick. His mouth flapped open and closed, words sticking in his throat.

"She's-" he grumbled, unable to find any words that made sense, "She's quiet. Sometimes. When she talks she'd rather insult you than say anything else. She's a pain in the ass."

The words felt half true on his tongue. Somewhat honest, in that she really was an insulting pain half the time. But he also briefly thought of how meekly she would hide her face behind her hair, hunch her shoulders to make herself small in the shadows. It made his chest clench slightly at the thought of it, pathetic and lonely.

"What about how she looks?" Pyp cut in, interrupting Jon's thoughts, "You must've seen her with a little less than a cloak on."

Jon felt his stomach turn at the thought of Poppy undressed. He gaped at his friend, disgust plain on his face. "That's none of your concern."

"Give us something!" Grenn pleaded, dropping his fists to the table like a petulant child.

"Gods, just look at her yourself", Edd spat back, seemingly too annoyed to finish his food, "It's not too hard to spot the only girl for miles."

Grenn and Edd continued to squabble. The sound grated against Jon's ears. Their voices rose, seeming to catch the attention of the men the next table over. The attention made Jon nervous, a scowl falling over his face. Turning to his brothers, he cut them off mid argument.

"She looks like a half drowned cat", he hissed, silencing them, "She looks like a skeleton with hair. And she's not here for you to stare at."

The men at his table fell silent, an awkward heaviness falling over them before they each turned back to their food. Grenn's eyes kept flicking up to Jon, clearly still wanting to ask more but too afraid to. Jon, however, couldn't stand it. He was sick of the questions, the discomfort. Pushing his bowl back, he stood from his seat and made his way out of the dining hall. He could hear Sam calling after him gently, but he continued out into the cold.

The frozen air immediately bit into his face, darkness having settled over the yard hours before. He'd left his cloak inside like an idiot, but he wasn't about to go back to get it. Instead, he stepped out, ice crunching beneath his feet as he wandered through the yard. He had nowhere to go and he had no desire to be asked any more questions about Poppy. He'd heard enough in the last few weeks. The silence was welcome. It was light, the only sound being the flickering of the torches along the walls of the castle.

Then, from some corner he hadn't been looking for, the sound of metal clattering to the ground cut through the quiet. Jon's head turned to see a shadowy bundle hunched on the icy ground beside the blacksmith's. Biting back the urge to groan, Jon made his way over to see what had happened. As he got closer, the light of the torches illuminated none other than the source of his troubles, Poppy. She lay grumbling on a patch of ice, rubbing her tailbone and surrounded by a bundle of dull swords. Her long limbs were scrambled around her like mismatched doll parts.

"What are you doing?" Jon huffed, standing over her.

The girl's green eyes went straight to him, her face it's usual sunken glare. Her hand snapped away from her back, embarrassed. She clumsily tried to bring herself to her feet but only managed to slip again, falling this time on her hip with a yelp she barely managed to swallow. She looked like a child, unable to find her footing. The whole thing made Jon laugh in spite of his best efforts. At the sound, Poppy glared up at him.

"What are you laughing at?", she demanded, trying to sound biting but only sounding petulant.

"You", he replied with a shrug, "Have you never walked through ice before?"

"I'm from King's Landing, we don't get ice there", she grumbled, eyes narrowing, "Now are you going to help me up or stand there laughing at me?"

With a roll of his eyes, Jon extended his hand towards the girl on the ground. She quickly grabbed hold of him as he hoisted her to her feet. As soon as she was up she pulled her hand from his grip, hand going back to her tailbone with a grimace. She looked slightly paler than usual, her breath a little more labored.

"You should have the Maester check on that", Jon suggested.

Poppy shrugged, retracting her hand. "I've had worse. No need for a Maester."

Unwilling to argue, Jon's eyes fell on all the dull swords. "What are you doing with all those?"

"Thorne told me to take them to the blacksmith", she griped, glaring down at the weapons, "I think he just wanted an excuse to order me to do something."

"And what did you say?" he inquired, brows raising, "I've never known you to be quiet when someone orders you around."

"I told him I only take orders from you."

Jon couldn't help but feel his eyes widen at that. His lips fell open, gaping at her slightly. "You never do what I tell you to do."

A little smirk grew on her face. It was small, but it reached her eyes, made them gleam with a sort of impish, angry light that made her look less hollowed out. "He doesn't need to know that. Besides, it got me out of the kitchens. My fingers had gone numb chopping all those potatoes, and the stew didn't even taste like anything for my efforts."

"It was rather awful", Jon relented, a little smile on his face, "Do you need help with the swords?"

"No, I should be fine", she insisted, already bending over to pick a few up, "They're not too heavy."

Jon might have allowed her to continue, but he saw the way her skinny arms sagged under the weight of only two sword. He wondered how she had remained so skinny. He'd never seen someone have so little muscle. Even Sansa had a little, her arms nimble from hours of embroidery. Humbly, he reached down and picked up a few of the weapons lying by his feet.

"It'll go quicker if I help."

"No need to be so damn honorable", Poppy said, clinging dumbly to her own bundle.

Jon chuckled, already having piled five swords in his arms. "Apologies, it's in my nature."

For the first time, he heard the girl laugh. It was ugly, a wheezing sound that was caught somewhere between a snort and a cry. It was more of a donkey's bray than the tittering giggles he'd heard Sansa and Lady Catelyn use at feasts and in conversation. Her face twisted into a smile that looked out of practice, like the muscles of her face weren't sure what to do with themselves. But all the same, her eyes lit up in a way that made the green of her eyes a little lighter. The crooked smile made her teeth bared in a way that showed the one crooked one towards the back. It was an interesting sight, to say the least.

The laughter, however, was cut off by the sounds of footsteps coming through the yard. Jon looked to see a small group of men, only three, half drunk on their way to the barracks. But they'd spotted him and Poppy, eyes red and lips tilted up into smiles. The sight made him nervous. The men's interest in the girl had not died down since the first day they'd seen her, and he knew a few of them were rapers.

"You should go inside", he said, not taking his eyes off the men, "Leave the swords here."

Smartly, Poppy didn't argue. She dropped the weapons on the ground and grabbed hold of his arm. "Take me back to my room?"

He nodded quickly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards the staircase that lead to their rooms. However, it was through the men. Keeping his shoulders squared and his grip on her tight, Jon lead her across the yard. But luck didn't appear to be on their side. As they made their way through, a hand shot out and grabbed onto the back of Poppy's cloak. She yelped, the clasp binding around her throat from the force of the pull.

"Where are you going?" a man by the name of Oryn slurred, lips pulled up into an ugly smile, "We'd very much like to meet you."

Quickly, Jon pushed the man back as Poppy ripped her cloak out of his grip. All traces of her crooked smile were gone, her usual deep frown now set deeply on her face. The men laughed, all their fear of Jon and what he could tell the Lord Commander forgotten with their drunkenness.

"What's your issue, bastard?", another, Ilan, demanded, "Don't want to share your little slice with us?"

Jon stepped forward, face hard and hands curled into fists. "You'd do well to keep your hands to yourselves."

"We'd do well to keep our hands other places", Oryn chortled, taking a bold step closer to the girl.

Poppy quickly stepped back, her face pulling into a sneer that looked like a cornered animal. Her dark hair fell in sheets over her face, shoulders hunched up protectively. "You touch me and I'll cut off your cocks and shove them up your asses."

"Girl's got spirit", Oryn laughed.

Jon stepped up in front of her, keeping the men at bay.

"That's enough!" he barked, his words stunning the men briefly.

It didn't last. The third man, a younger one he didn't know the name of, had slid out of his sight when the other two had advanced. Jon tried to reach for him but was pulled back by Oryn. The sound of Poppy crying out angrily made him turn to see the third man grabbing hold of her hair. Jon quickly elbowed Oryn in the stomach and grabbed hold of the man's wrist, wringing it and forcing him to loosen his grip. But as he threw the man to the ground, Ilan grabbed the front of Poppy's tunic, his laughter ugly and bubbling as he tried to rip it open. Poppy let out a strangled cry, reaching out and clawing at the man's arms with little success.

"Let her go now!"

The bastard grabbed hold of Ilan's hair, but he'd already thrown Poppy in Oryn's direction. The ice made it impossible for Poppy to keep her footing or hold her ground. She landed in Oryn's arms, his ugly white-blonde hair falling in greasy sheets over his smiling face. He could hear her panting, breath wheezing and stuck in her chest in a panic. Her eyes were wide with panic, body going stiff. Jon desperately reached to pull her from his grasp but the blonde childishly giggled and threw her back to Ilan. He shook her, pulling at the back of her tunic through the top of her cloak.

"She looks like a little ragdoll", he giggled, laughter filling the air. He shook her harder, and she didn't fight back.

"I swear to the Gods I will-"

Before Jon could finish, he saw something that didn't look quite right. Ilan apparently noticed it too. His smile dropped from his face when he realized that he had stopped shaking Poppy, but the girl had continued to move.

Movement wasn't right. She was spasming. Seizing. Violently. Her back had gone stiff into an almost backward arc and her eyes had rolled back in her head. Spit leaked from her lips like an animal. Like she'd burned her, Ilan dropped her onto the ground in a shaking heap. She didn't seem to notice that she'd even dropped to the ground.

"I- I didn't do that", he slurred, stepping back in a panic.

Jon didn't listen, though. He fell to his knees beside her to see that blood was flowing out of her nose and the spit lining her lips was stained an ugly sick yellow color. His hands hovered over her, twitching and unsure what to do. Looking up, he pointed at Ilan.

"Call the Maester", he ordered, trying to gather the girl in his arms without hurting her.

"But- but I-"

"NOW!"

The men scattered as soon as the words left Jon's lips. They echoed through the yard along with their pounding footsteps. But the sounds were lost on him. Instead, he turned back to the girl seizing in his arms. Spit and sick stuck to her lips and fell down the corners of her mouth. Trying to remember anything he'd ever learned from Maester Luwin, Jon quickly turned her on her side in his arms. Her face crushed itself into his chest, the ugly yellow saliva smearing over his clothes. But it didn't matter. He quickly started running towards the Maester's chambers. As soon as he was at the door, he kicked it in and stumbled inside.

"Maester Aemon!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Help- it's Poppy! I don't- I don't know what-"

"That's quite enough", the old Maester's voice tittered, the man himself emerging from the shadows followed by the three men who quickly ran out of the room, "I've been told what's happening. What color is her saliva?"

Jon looked down, as if to check once again. "Uh- it's yellow. Clear yellow. And her nose is bleeding."

The old man's lips turned down, his sightless eyes seeming even farther away than usual. "I know what this is. Now don't waste time, lay her down on the table."

Clumsily, Jon quickly followed instructions and tried to get the seizing girl to lay straight on her back. But she kept shaking, kept pulling in and out of herself. The sight made all the air in his chest evaporate. He stood frozen above her, unsure of what to do or how to help. All he knew was that he needed to do something, help her in some way.

"Out" the old Maester said simply, already holding several herbs in his hands and beginning to pour them into a bowl, "I'll take care of this, Jon Snow."

Jon's lips flapped open and closed. "But I-"

"You want to help", Maester Aemon finished, a little smile on his lips, "And that's honorable. I'll be sure to tell her you refused to leave her side as soon as she's finished with this episode. But for now I need the room to care for her. I will call you when she's alright again."

Jon looked upon the Maester, knowing that he knew what to do. But he still didn't want to leave Poppy alone. Stepping back, he felt guilt eating up his insides as he stepped out into the night and shut the door behind him.

It turned out Jon only had to wait outside for less than an hour. He'd sat outside the chambers, letting the cold sink into him without a cloak. He wondered from time to time if he should go get the Lord Commander, but it was late and he didn't know what had happened. One moment she'd been fine, albeit pissed and scared. She'd been paler than usual, but he'd assumed it had been the cold.

The door creaked back open, the Maester standing in the frame calmly. Jon shot to his feet.

"Is she okay?" he asked, voice cracking from the cold.

"She's alright", the old man reassured him, waving him inside, "Do come in and see for yourself."

The man quickly followed Maester Aemon inside, shutting the door behind him before rushing to the table in the center of the room. Poppy lay upon it, flecks of bile still sticking to her cheeks and the barest traces of red clinging to the underside of her nose. But she simply stared up at the ceiling, seeming to not want to meet Jon's gaze.

"Are you alright?", he asked, standing above her worriedly.

Flicking her eyes away from him, the dark haired woman nodded. Her arms wrapped around her middle, head turning away from Jon. Worry wrung itself inside of Jon. What had she been told? What was wrong with her that made her not want to look at him?

"It's not fatal", Maester Aemon piped up, breaking the heavy silence, "Just to give you some comfort. It's not even new. Miss Waters has a birth defect. It gives her seizured from time to time, especially under stress. Of course, she knew about this already."

Jon snapped his head back to Poppy, his brows pulling together. "You knew about this? Why in seven hells wouldn't you tell me?''

Her throat bobbed from her swallowing, a grimace following. She must still have the taste in her mouth. "Would you have let me stay if you'd known?"

Jon opened his mouth to contradict her, but nothing came out. Mulling it over, he knew he or Thorne or even Mormont would have told her to leave had they known she was so frail. Slowly, he shut his mouth, keeping his eyes on her.

"I could've helped", he argued weakly.

"There's something we agree on", the Maester cut in, a little smile on his wrinkled face, "I've treated several of my family members for issues much like this. It's ongoing, it will never go away. But we can combat the symptoms. I've had much practice making the proper medicines. It's not too difficult, and you can find the ingredients in most wild places. Even in the winter. I made sure of that when I was young."

Poppy looked over at the old man, brows knit together. "Your family had this too?"

"Oh yes", he replied, "And various other things. I was among the luckier lot. But I promise we can alleviate the seizures. So long as you keep up with the treatment."

She nodded quickly, hair flying. "Yes! Yes, I'll do that. Thank you."

The old man's lips turned even further up, looking sweet and a little sad. "I used up the last of the ginger. I'll go off and fetch some to teach you both how to make the brew. Jon Snow, you're in for a little more work, if that's alright with you."

"Yes, it's alright", he insisted.

Maester Aemon nodded again before shuffling out of the room in search of the ginger. Once again, the room was quiet. Poppy pulled herself up with a groan and managed to sit up. Jon kept his eyes on her, feeling the panic fade away, replaced by concern and mild irritation.

"How are we going to keep you from having another…" he trailed off, unsure of what to call what had just happened.

"Episode?", she provided, rubbing at her cheek, "That's what my mother always called them. I don't know. The medicine should help. They've helped before."

"And what if someone attacks you again?" Jon asked as gently as he could, "It doesn't matter if you don't have another episode if you're still in danger."

Her face fell, eyes seeming to sink into her skull. She looked up at him, dark circles under her eyes and hair a wild mess. "I… you could…"

As she trailed off, he tried to keep her attention. "What is it?"

She swallowed hard, seeming to shake slightly. "When I was travelling here, two men tried to…"

Jon didn't want to know, but he did. He knew what happened to women alone on the road. It was sick. But thinking of Poppy alone out there made his stomach turn. She was small and visibly breakable. Brave, but breakable.

"The men tried", she continued, catching his attention again, "But I… I fought them off."

"How?" Jon asked.

"I had a hunter's knife", she muttered, eyes wide and ashamed, "I didn't mean to- to hurt him. But I did and… and they left me alone. I don't know how to fight. Not properly. But I heard that you're the best swordsman here."

Realizing what she was implying, Jon quickly shook his head. "No. That's not an option."

"Why not?", she pleaded, "I'll do whatever you tell me to."

"You heard what the Maester said", he implored, "Too much stress could send you back here again."

"I can handle a seizure", she insisted, scooting closer to him to look him straight in the eyes, "And I'm able to get medicine again now. I'll be fine."

"But you can't even hold up a sword on your own."

"I'll work up to it!"

"The Lord Commander will have my head."

"What about my head?" she cried, slamming her fist on the table beside her, "What about when you're not there? You think the men will just leave me be on fear of you alone? I have to be able to defend myself!"

The two stared hard at each other. Poppy's eyes didn't waver from his, sitting taller than she had before and keeping herself still. Jon ran through the whole thing in his head. She was small, weak. She would be left with many bruises in the process if she wanted to really learn. But she had spirit, too. More than half the men at Castle Black. And if he didn't tell the Lord Commander, perhaps he would simply allow it to continue. His eyes flicked between hers, feeling his jaw tighten before letting out a huff.

"Fine", he relented, feeling his words stick in his throat, "But you'll do everything I tell you. We'll train after both our duties are done for the day."

"Yes!" she said immediately, eyes widening, "Yes, I can do that."

"And you won't complain about bruises or sore arms or anything", he continued seriously.

"You'll never hear a complaint from me", she insisted, nodding her head along so fast he wondered if she would get whiplash from it.

Sighing, Jon leaned against the table, the night's anxiety finally catching up with him. "Fine. We'll start tomorrow."

"Thank you!" Poppy wheezed out, her voice cracking over the words.

Her hand shot out as if separate from her body and gripped his arm in thanks. Almost immediately she let go, her face slack with shock and discomfort. He watched her face pale, as if touching someone was completely foreign to her. But he did not ask about it. What would it have achieved, anyway? It was clear that there were alot of things Poppy did not want to talk about. Jon wondered if he would ever truly know who she was. But at the moment, that didn't really matter. What mattered was keeping her alive as long as she was at Castle Black.


	10. Shadow

Sienna swore that her arms were about to fall straight off her body.

Jon had finished his duties early that day, so he'd brought her out to the training yard for an extra hour of practice. He'd kept to his agreement, training her every evening. It had been nearly two weeks. Sometimes he tried to teach her hand to hand combat, but he wasn't the finest at it. At least he'd taught her the best way to punch a man in the jaw. However, he'd spend a solid few minutes laughing at her paltry attempts to hit him in the shoulder, which only made her want to hit harder.

Now, he'd moved on to sword training. He'd imagined that if she were armed with a sword, or at least a dagger, men would be less inclined to try and attack her. As he was more inclined towards the sword, he decided to train her at that.

"Again", he said, raising his sword into a battle ready position, "Follow my footsteps."

"I swear to all the gods, Jon Snow", she groaned, rubbing at her sore arms, "If you make me lift that sword again it's going straight up your ass."

A smirk played at his lips, like he was waiting for an excuse to make the training harder. "I thought I told you no complaining."

"I'm not complaining", Sienna stated, raising her brows, "I'm just stating a fact."

"Well no more stating facts", Jon responded, sinking into his knees for the ready position, "Raise your sword and attack me."

Sighing, Sienna weakly attempted to lift the sword as high as Jon. But it wobbled in her arms. The heavy steel was impossible for her to hold up with her weak body. She couldn't even hold her own balance with the thing in her hands. She felt the strain in her back and in her hips along with her biceps and fingers. But she would never give Jon an excuse to stop the training. Instead, she let it wobble as she held it up with all her might before grunting and swinging at Jon.

He quickly deflected the slow swing, slapping the weapon straight out of her hands and onto the ground before pointing his own sword straight at her face.

"I won", he said simply, though his victory didn't seem to matter much to him as he lowered his weapon, "You need to be able to hold the thing up."

"I've never had to hold something so heavy", Sienna bit back, trudging over to pick up the discarded sword, "It'll take time. I promise I can do it."

Jon's eyes looked her over, no doubt taking in the bruises she'd taken to the wrists from all the times he's knocked her sword out of her hands. "Maybe if we switched to a dagger?"

"No", she insisted, turning to face the man, "I want to do this. I can't just be the little girl with the little weapon. I need to give them a reason to be scared of me."

His eyes flicked over her, seeming to be hesitant to continue. However, he looked up at the sky and let his shoulders sag before turning his gaze back to her. "Fine. Get back in the ready position."

Nodding, she scooped up the weapon with some difficulty and readied herself again. Her arms felt weaker than before if that were possible. The back of her shoulder burned but she held her stance as solidly as possible. Jon sunk down to meet her, sword ready and still.

With another cry, she swung the sword in the other direction but was easily countered once again. The thing flew out of her fingers and clattered onto the ground once more. Sienna couldn't help the cry that escaped her lips at the sting on her knuckles from the hit they took from Jon's sword. Once again, his weapon was pointed right at her face.

"I won", he said again.

"Yes, yes, you won", Sienna simpered, crossing her arms and glaring at Jon, "You've said that at least a thousand times."

"Don't exaggerate", Jon replied, his face straight, "It's only been about five hundred."

Sienna snorted, the corners of her lips quirking up for only a brief second. She curled her fist tight, feeling the bruised knuckles pop.

"You may want to get Sam to wrap those", Jon interrupted her, pointing towards her hands, "The wrists too."

Sienna shrugged, pulling her face into a thoughtful expression. "I might do that. If you pick up my sword and take it to the barracks for me."

The boy's brows quirked up, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "You drive a hard bargain."

"You're a big strong brother of the Night's Watch, I'm sure you can handle it." The girl sent him an exaggerated smile, squeezing her eyes nearly shut and shuffling her feet beneath her like a little girl. She heard him chuckle, a fairly welcome sound.

"You make a good point", he smirked, scooping up the sword with little effort, "We'll continue tomorrow. Maybe when you get better I'll bring Edd in to practice with you."

"I'll be here."

With one last nod, Sienna walked past Jon towards the Maester's chambers where she knew Sam was still lointering about. The walk was short and she didn't bother knocking on the door. Instead, she barged right in. The room was warm and smelt of herbs and parchment. The smack of the door made poor Sam's head pop up from his latest book. His eyes fell on her black and blue knuckles and smirking face with distaste.

"Training again?" he asked sympathetically.

"Don't worry, Sam", Sienna smirked, already hopping up on the table and holding her hands out, "Only the hands and wrists today. No bruised ribs or hips."

"That's a relief", he huffed, setting down his book and moving towards the wrappings set up on the table near him, "I've told Jon to slow down with you."

The dark haired girl's head tipped to the side. "Now why would I want him to do that?"

"Well for starters, you're in here every night with a new bruise", Sam pointed out, walking towards her and taking her hand in his, "And you're sick."

Sienna spread her fingers so he could begin lacing the wrappings through them. "If he doesn't push me, I'll never get better. Besides, I'll always be sick. And I have medicine again. I might as well learn how to deal with it."

"Well, the amount of nosebleeds and sick spells I've helped you through beg to differ", Sam muttered, tightening the wraps skillfully.

"I want to learn to fight back", the girl insisted, leaning forward intently, "I want to show these men they can't touch me. That I'll-"

"Beat them over the heads with your books?"

Sienna's jaw dropped open slightly, a huff falling from her lips. "You're a cheeky one, aren't you?"

"Not nearly as much as you", he replied with a smile, tying off the end of the wrapping, "Your hands should be fine within the week. Tell Jon I said to avoid your knuckles from now on."

A little smile grew on the girl's face before she hopped down from the table. "No promises, Sam."

With that, she winked at the poor boy and sauntered out of the chambers. She could hear him grumbling behind her. Something about having to get more padding for her.

The darkness of the night was alleviated only by the torchlight that only reached the corners of the yard. But Sienna knew darkness well. She'd been studying the grounds of Castle Black, trying to find its version of the tunnels of the Red Keep. So far the closest she'd come were dark corners with no torches where no one bothered to look at night. But it was enough for now.

She followed the dark path towards her room, climbing up the stairs and flinging herself into the hallway for warmth. Just down the hall she could see a bright white bundle of fur sitting just outside Jon's door. Ghost.

Sienna was not unfamiliar with the direwolf. It had followed Jon through the yards a few times, though mostly kept in the kennels under Thornes orders. And she could have sworn she'd seen it trailing behind her at random points during the day. She wanted to no longer fear the wolf, but his red eyes unsettled her, and he always seemed to be on edge around her anyway. She may not have much worldly experience, but Sienna knew a direwolf with a stiff back was one you wanted to be wary of.

"Hello", she whispered to the wolf, "Having a good night, then?"

His white ears perked up, chin still resting on his paws. His red eyes flicked over her, seeming to give nothing away.

Sienna narrowed her eyes, mock glaring at the direwolf. "You're an indifferent little beast."

Ghosts ears dropped pointedly back down to his skull as Sienna turned on her heel and made her way into her room. She shut the door and threw herself onto her bed. The furs engulfed her in warmth almost immediately. Lazily, she snatched up the bottle of medicine Maester Aemon had helped her brew earlier that morning. The taste was far better than the tar quality of her previous potions, instead only a dull herbal taste coated her tongue. She just wanted to lay there, let her aching muscles rest for the night. Her heavy eyes fell closed, already halfway asleep when a knock came at her door.

She groaned loudly, cursing every god she knew for the disturbance. Achingly, she pushed herself back up and made her way to the door. She threw it open with a sneer only to see Jon standing on the other side, his face arrogantly smiling. His arms were behind his back.

"What do you want?", the dark haired girl demanded, "I just want to sleep."

His dark eyes swept over her room, face still haughty and intact. "May I come in?"

Confused, she shrugged noncommittally and gestured inside. There seemed to be more of a spring in Jon's step, like he was proud of something. Though what he had to be proud of, she had no clue.

"Did you somehow manage to get drunk in the last half hour since I saw you?" she questioned, shutting her door, "Because that would be impressive."

He shrugged, trying to keep his face schooled. "Why would you think I'm drunk."

"Your face is doing this strange thing", she pointed out, waving her finger around his face, "Your cheeks are turned up in this thing someone might call a smile."

"I know how to smile", he shot back, feet planted firmly beneath him.

"Everyone who's ever met you would disagree."

The boy chuckled, hands still held loosely behind his back. "I've brought you something."

Sienna's dark brows went up, arms crossing. "Are you sweet on me, Snow? That why you're bringing me gifts late in the night?"

Sienna had to resist pissing herself laughing as she watched Jon's expression. He looked like he wanted to gag, but all the brooding politeness he clung so hard to made it impossible for him to do so. Instead his face twisted into a rather disgusted and confused expression, one that made laughter stick in the dark haired girls throat. Her cheeks puffed out trying to contain the sound, but bits escaped.

Jon glared at her, his dark eyes narrowing. "If you're quite done now, did you want to know what I brought or not?"

"Yes, I do", she chuckled, swiping the spit from her lips, "I promise I'll stop. Just show me."

A proud smile spread over the boys face, his back straightening slightly as his arms unwound from behind his back. Gently, he pulled out what looked like a twisted strip of metal. Confused, Sienna eyed it closer and took a step forward. Upon closer inspection, her face lit up when she saw what was really laying gently in Jon's hands. A sword.

The blade was slightly crooked, curved out at an almost unnoticeable angle with a few waves in the metal. The edges were slightly ragged, sticking out sharply with what looked like a painful splinter. The thing had not been finished, but could be smoothed out with some care.

"I found it in the blacksmith's chambers", Jon explained, "He had a pile of weapons he'd tossed aside. Said he'd gotten the proportions wrong, that they were too small for the men. So I thought perhaps you could find some use of it."

Sienna could feel her jaw fall open, words dying on her tongue. Her eyes remained on the weapon, the way the metal rippled and shone in the light of the few candles she had lit. The hilt was bound in strips of black leather, rough and half done. By all accounts it should be ugly, but to her eyes it wasn't. It was sturdy, slim, strong. It was beautiful.

"Is this the first time you don't have something to say?"

Forcing her eyes up, Sienna's jaw remained open. Cautiously, she reached out and tried to place her fingers on the blade, but they stuck just an inch above the metal. It was like her body was afraid to touch it. Jon seemed to notice, his face unchanged but still soft. He reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist, guiding her hand towards the leather bound hilt.

"It won't hurt you", he pointed out.

Slowly, he let his fingers unclurl from around the hilt and let Sienna take the weight of it. Her arm dipped under the weight for only a second before she felt that she could hold it up without too much difficulty. The leather felt sturdy under her fingers, the long instrument decently balanced and easy enough to hold.

"When did you find this?" she asked quietly, running her free fingers over the cool metal.

"Last night after dinner", he responded, "Donal wouldn't stop whining that he needed help cleaning."

Sienna's jaw widened dramatically as realization dawned on her. "You've had this for over a day? And you couldn't have given me this before we did nearly three hours of training?"

That damned smile was back on his face, eyes crinkling proudly at the sides while his shoulders squared off. "I just wanted to watch you try and hold a regular sword up for a while longer. It's rather funny, in a pathetic sort of way."

She couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped her throat. "You're an ass, Jon Snow!" she laughed, punching him lamely in the shoulder.

He laughed along, playing at being hurt. Stepping back, their chuckles filled the room and his eyes fell back on the sword. He nodded towards it, looking at it questioningly.

"All the best swords have names", he said, eyes going back up to her, "Which one do you want?"

The question hung in the air, giving Sienna a moment to think it over. She eyed the warped metal, the sturdy hilt and the abnormal curve to the blade. Names circled through her head, popping in and out, quickly discarded. For a moment, her mind flashed back to that night all those years ago, drenched in moonlight and utterly powerless. The night Lord Varys had given her hope. The memory made her face set, the feeling she'd been flooded with when she was young still flickering deep inside her.

"Shadow", she stated firmly, regarding the sword with a kind of reverence she's never placed on an object before, "There's power in shadows."


	11. Slice

Sienna was hunched over, scrubbing hard at a particularly nasty stain on one of the dining hall tables. She wondered if it was stew or bile. It smelled the same either way. But she'd been at it for nearly half an hour, the smell starting to burn her nose from the inside out. Nearly every other surface was rubbed raw from hours of work. Her arms burned. Legs too. She and Jon had spent much of the early morning sparring. She'd gotten better, even Jon had to admit that. She could hold herself up with Shadow in her hands and she'd even gotten a few good hits in against her friend. But her body most certainly didn't appreciate the strain.

She'd been grumbling to herself for the better part of an hour. She'd seen the corpses of a dead ranger earlier that day, and was curious what Maester Aemon was doing to examine the bodies. He'd been frozen for days, perhaps weeks. Bits of him were swollen and grey. She'd only read about that kind of science, never able to see it herself. Now she definitely wouldn't have the opportunity.

Shadow kept bumping against her hip, forming a bruise she could already feel throbbing. But she refused to unstrap it from her trousers. Just the weight of it made her feel taller, more threatening. Less breakable. Some men laughed when they'd seen her walking through the yard, others knew better.

"Seven fucking hells", she muttered under her breath, scrubbing even harder. Part of her worried that she'd splinter the wood with how hard she was digging into it.

"Didn't think a woman talked like that."

Not recognizing the gravelly voice, Sienna's scrubbing stopped and she turned around to see Sam and another man standing in the doorway. Sam, of course, was handling a bundle of heavy looking books while the man beside him stood with hunched shoulders and limp hair.

Letting the rag slip from her hands, Sienna straightened up and looked the new man in the eyes. "Who are you supposed to be?"

The man's brow quirked up slightly. "I heard you liked to try and sound tough."

"I am tough", she insisted, trying and failing to subtly jut out her hip to show off Shadow.

Inevitably, both men chortled at the sight of the blade. Heat almost immediately rushed to the tips of her ears. "Well who the fuck are you anyway?"

"Edd", he replied simply, "Possibly the only man in the whole place who doesn't constanty talk about fucking you."

Sienna's lips curled back in disgust and discomfort. "I didn't need to know that."

"I think you did", Edd shrugged, leaning back on his heels, "Where's Jon?"

"How should I know?" she spat back, leaning against the table.

"Because you're his fuckin' shadow."

"I'm not his-" Sienna was about to argue, but she knew what the men said around the castle, "Fine, he's up with the Lord Commander. Some sort of discussion they needed to have. I don't know anything else."

"Then what fuckin' good are ya?" Ed grumbled.

"Well what do you need him for?" she spat back, crossing her arms and glaring at the man.

"We wanted to be sure he was okay," Sam provided helpfully, "The rangers brought in a corpse today they found beyond the wall. Jon's worried that the next one they find will be his uncle."

Sienna's arms went slack, her mouth snapping shut at the news. She hadn't heard about any corpse, being stuck in the dining hall all day. But she knew how much Jon worried about his uncle. She'd never met him, but the man sounded honorable.

"Seven hells," she muttered, unsure of how to respond, "Well, you can see him after he comes back down from Mormont's chambers. Shouldn't be too much longer."

Almost as if he'd been waiting for her to say that, Jon came sulking into the dining hall. Both men greeted him loudly, sauntering over to him. But Sienna noticed something was off. His face wasn't his usual pensive brood. His cheeks were heavier, jaw clenched tight and back limp. He looked as if the air itself was pushing him down into the ground.

"Are you alright?" she asked over the echoes of the other men.

Jon's dark eyes flicked up to her, seemingly stuck in the position he was in. His mouth opened and closed, like he was trying to figure out what words made sense. Sienna stepped slowly up to the group of men.

"Jon?" Sam asked curiously, worry coloring his voice.

With everyone's eyes on him, Jon seemed like he was unsure of how to proceed. "The king is dead."

Almost the moment the words left his lips, Sienna felt her stomach drop down into the ground. Her father was dead.

She was aware that the men were talking, but they sounded far away. All Sienna could think about was the far off memory of her father. The smell he'd left behind, like he'd drunk an entire cask of ale anytime he had to be in the same room as her. But… he couldn't be gone.

"Poppy."

Snapping her eyes up to Edd, Sienna saw all three men looking at her expectantly. Quickly schooling her face, the dark haired girl tried to push her thoughts down. "What? Sorry."

"I said," Jon choked out, his voice cracking slightly over the words, "My father has been imprisoned for treason."

Sienna's jaw went slack, the information slapping her in the face. "W-what? How is that possible?"

"Commander Mormont said he conspired to refuse Joffrey the throne," his voice was tight, jaw clenching over each word, "Said my sisters would be treated... gently."

Jon looked as if his body was pulling in on itself, fighting its urge to run straight towards King's Landing. Perhaps even cut his way through Mormont if it came to it. She knew the urge well. She still had the scars on her feet to prove it. But now, seeing it in front of her, the girl felt something else burning in her chest. She wanted nothing more than to take Shadow and find her mother, demand an explanation. Demand Ned Stark be set free if not for anything but to save Jon's family and keep him from doing something foolish. But that could never happen. If she ever set foot in the Red Keep, she'd be dead.

Pushing against the hot rage in her belly, Sienna stepped over to her friend with her hands up. "Come with me to the kitchens."

Edd scoffed, peering at the girl beside him. "What good'll that do?"

"He can pretend the slabs of meat are Joffrey and slice them up," Sienna shot back, fixing the older man with a glare, "It's better than snapping at Mormont and getting hung."

Sam seemed to perk up at the idea, sending Jon an encouraging look. "She's right, Jon. It could make you feel better."

"Feel better?" the brooding man spat, glaring at his friend, "You think cutting up meat will stop me thinking about my father and sisters rotting in a dungeon?"

That shut Sam up, his mouth snapping shut almost immediately and cheeks giving way to a flush of embarrassment. Edd, on the other hand, slapped Jon hard on the shoulder.

"It beats nothin'," he said gruffly, nodding towards Sienna, "Follow Poppy, stab a few pork legs. By the looks of her she has lots of practice at it."

The tall girl sneered at the bearded man, and Jon did the same. Sienna kept her gaze on Jon, though. By the looks of it, nothing was going to help. And how could it? The best any of them could do was keep him out of trouble for now. Reaching out, Sienna grabbed him by the arm and tugged him towards the kitchens.

"Come on, Snow," she grumbled, "You too Sam. I can't keep him in line by myself."

* * *

Evidently, Sienna's plan had worked decently well.

Jon had been hacking away at a lamb leg or the better part of an hour, bits of meat and flesh flying around him and making a mess. Bits of it was stuck not only in his hair, but Sienna's and Sam's too. Edd had grunted something about needing to attend some sort of Ranger duty, having had enough of the tense silence. Sienna couldn't blame him. The stench of drying meat alone was driving her up the wall. Grenn had come and gone, similarly coming up with an excuse to avoid whatever was happening. Jon, unbothered, kept grunting and slicing at what was essentially bone, only adding to the girl's headache tenfold.

Sam simply cut up vegetables, keeping quiet and sending Jon little smiles to keep him focused.

From the back of the room, footsteps started to approach. Ears perking up, Sienna looked over to see Pyp making his way inside. As soon as he saw what was happening, he stopped mid-step. His wide eyes made Sienna's lips quirk up mischievously, her own knife slicing through some chicken absentmindedly.

"Everything alright?" the skinny boy asked hesitantly.

Jon didn't respond, simply continuing his assault on the lamb leg.

Sienna shook the hair out of her eyes, catching Pyp's attention. "Best not to ask."

"Oh," he muttered, making his way closer to Sienna as if she could offer him protection from Jon's pinched and red face. He leaned over towards her ear, keeping his friends from hearing. "Is this about his father?"

The girl stopped mid-slice, pulling her knife from the chicken and setting it down. "Yeah. Don't talk about it yet."

Pyp nodded quickly, patting Sienna on the shoulder and stepping beside her to help with the chicken.

Quickly enough, the four of them got into a rhythm. Or, Sam, Pyp and Sienna did. Jon had remained the same, moving on to a beef leg. The scent of flesh was heavy, the silence heavier. Sam had managed to make a mountain of chopped up onions. Pyp had doubled Sienna's efforts with the chicken, a large pile already being ladled into a large pot to be made into stew later on. They'd even added the lamb and beef shards that went flying from Jon's station. But, much to Sienna's relief, he'd slowed down in the last half hour. Now, Jon merely sliced slowly, as if his arm had grown tired. His face was no longer red and pinched, but its usual pale color.

Sienna should have known it wouldn't last.

Heavy boot steps stomped their way into the room. All four of the occupants raised their heads to see none other than Thorne making his way inside. His old face was twisted up in a smirk that made Sienna scowl right back. That look was never good.

The older ranger came to a stop beside Jon, who was steadfastly ignoring him. Thorne's eyes raked over the younger man with a sort of glee that made the rest of the room want to gag or run.

"So," he smirked, eyes still on Jon, "Not only a bastard, but a traitor's bastard."

Sienna's lips curled back in a snarl. "Fuck off, Thorne."

Both Pyp and Sam kept their heads down, eyes bouncing between the three other occupants in the room. The taller man turned his head, the lines on his face running deeper as he glared at the dark haired girl with disdain. "I'd suggest you keep your mouth shut, bastard. Unless you want to be back out in the cold where you belong."

"Don't talk to her like that."

Jon's voice was deep, growling. He hadn't spoken in the last few hours, and it was rather clear. But the way he glared up at Thorne, knife tight in his fist made everyone else in the room stand still. Sienna could feel her back stiffen, eyes on Jon, scared that he was about to do something stupid.

"So this is the company you keep?" the older man taunted, taking a step closer to the younger man, "Have you broken your vows with her yet? She doesn't look worth the effort."

Both Jon's and Sienna's jaws tightened, the girl's stomach twisting at the insinuation and insult.

"No wonder your family is about to hang."

Before the words had finished passing Thorne's lips, Jon ripped his knife out of the beef leg and swung it at Thorne's throat. Sam and Pyp cried out for Jon to stop, Sienna throwing herself in front of the two men without hesitation.

"Stop!" she cried, prying the knife out of her friend's hand, "Don't be stupid-"

"Blood will always tell," Thorne stated smugly, as if he had just gotten exactly what he wanted, "You'll hang for this, bastard."

Spinning around on her heel, the girl sent a feral snarl in Thorne's direction. "Get out before I shove this knife so far up your ass you'll shit blood!"

The older man just sent her a simpering smirk, teeth glinting behind his lips as he made his way outside. The other men were still holding Jon down against the table, where Sienna threw down the knife in frustration. Jon managed to wrestle his way out of the men's grip, looking like he might just run after Throne himself when all four of them spotted Mormont standing in the doorway.

The four of them stood frozen as the old bear quietly made his way towards them, face hard and deeply upset. His hands remained at his sides, eyes blazing towards his steward. Slowly, he came to a stop in front of him, mouth pressed into a hard line.

"I told you not to do anything stupid," he said grimly, nodding his head towards Sienna, "She told you not to do anything stupid. Perhaps you simply are stupid. You're confined to quarters."

Sienna stood frozen, watching the two men stare each other down before Jon ducked out of the room. That movement prompted her to step up to the Commander, hands up pleadingly.

"No, that was my fault," she tried to convince him, "Thorne was trying to-"

"I don't care," Mormont snapped, eyes boring into her green ones harshly, "The boy needs to learn. And it appears you do too. Stay away from him tonight, or face the consequences."

With that said, the old man turned and made his way out.

Sienna felt her face turn into a scowl. Fuck the consequences.

She had to wait a few hours for night to fall. Perhaps she could do this without being spotted. She'd spent many nights memorizing the shadow laden corners of Castle Blac, much like she had back at the Red Keep. While there were no hidden tunnels here, that didn't mean she couldn't move without being seen. Her feet moved lightly over the frozen ground, barely making any noise as she made her way up the stairs. She avoided the ones that made noise, having taken note of which ones were the loudest. It didn't take long for her to make it to their hallway. Slowly, she wrapped her hand around the handle and pushed it open ever so slightly as to not make any noise.

Sienna peaked the head through the door. Inside was Jon, laying back on his bed with a sour look on his face. No one could blame him for that, she supposed. Ghost was perched in the corner, ears pressed down against his head. A small fire crackled in the corner, but the silence of the room felt heavy.

"Jon?"

The boy perked his head up, his curls falling over his face as he looked over at her. "What is it?"

"I-" she croaked, daring to take another step inside, "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Jon looked her over, face heavy and sadder than usual. His eyes flicked over her face, like he was trying to decipher a lie. Apparently he couldn't find one. He nodded, laying his head back down as Sienna stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She made her way quietly over to the bed and sat beside him.

She stayed quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. She'd never had to comfort anyone except herself before. But now her friend was laid out beside her and she had no idea how to help.

"I think you should've kicked Thorne's ass," she muttered, pulling at a loose thread in his blanket.

Jon's lip twitched up slightly, giving Sienna a bit of comfort. But his head remained on his cot, eyes up on the ceiling.

"I could have," he grumbled back, "If you hadn't held me back."

The dark haired girl shrugged casually. "Someone had to have a functioning mind that situation. As always, it was me."

A huff of laughter passed her friend's lips. With a groan, Jon pushed himself up and sat only an inch beside her. Sienna noted that he looked paler than usual. His face was long, hair falling in heavy curls over his hooded eyes. Gently and a little shakily, Sienna placed her hand on Jon's shoulder.

"Your father will be okay," she said seriously, "I promise."

"You can't promise anything," Jon responded simply, not quite meeting her gaze.

"But I can," Sienna quickly responded, "You forget I'm from King's Landing. I know these people. Despite their worst impulses, those royal twats don't just kill lords for fun. There's power in death, and they know what will happen if they kill the most respected man in the North. Your father will make it out with his life if any of them have any sense of self preservation at all."

Slowly, Jon looked over at her with his dark, sad eyes. It seemed as if he was actually listening to her. His lips pressed together as he leaned slightly into her grip on his shoulder. "If it were your father, wouldn't you be afraid?"

A lump grew in Sienna's throat, the image of her father flashing in her mind. "My father's dead."

"Oh," Jon retracted quietly, "I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be," the girl waved him off, swallowing the thickness in her throat, "I barely knew him. He was a drunk. Didn't love me at all. Gods, I barely even knew the man."

The dark haired boy nodded slowly, seeming to understand that she didn't want to keep talking about it. It made Sienna's chest feel warm.

"Lady Stark never loved me," Jon responded, his voice calmer, "So we have that in common."

Sienna quirked her brow. "Really?"

"Not for a second," he said, the barest traces of a sad laugh in his voice, "Do you know what the last thing she ever said to me was? That I should've been the one to fall from that tower, not my brother."

"Seven hells," Sienna's stomach turned at the cruelty, pushing her hair out of her face, "Do you want me to kill her for you?"

Jon fixed her with a glare, though she could see the slightest twitched at the edge of his mouth.

"I would," she continued confidently, "I'd run her straight through. Just say the word."

"That'll never happen," he shot her down, face falling after he did. His eyes flicked down, voice lower as he continued bitterly. "She was right, of course. I'm just a bastard. What would it have mattered if I died?"

"Oi!" Sienna grabbed hold of the side of her friend's face, tugging it to look her directly in the eyes. She fixed him with a serious stare, making sure he was looking properly at her. "You are not just a bastard. Not to me. Do you understand?"

With Jon looking so intently at her, Sienna was suddenly aware of her skin on his. A shudder went up her back, remembering the feel of another man's skin. His blood, the way his throat resisted the tug of her knife as she ripped it out. Her own blood felt cold, her fingers twitching on and off of Jon's face like her skin didn't know how to make contact with someone else's.

Then, somehow without either of them noticing beforehand, Ghost was clawing at the door madly. His growl was deep, panicked. The direwolf looked as if he were trying to chew through the wood. Sienna dropped her hand and whipped around, eyeing the wolf with caution.

"Is-" she asked quietly, pointing towards Ghost, "Is that normal?"

Instead of answering, Jon pushed himself to his feet, making his way cautiously towards the direwolf. "Ghost? What's wrong?"

The half-grown wolf stopped, turning towards Jon with wide eyes. He prodded his nose against the wood with a whine.

"Is someone out there?"

Something about the way Ghost was peering up at Jon answered his question. Even Sienna could sense it. Without another word, Jon snatched up his sword from the corner of the room. "Poppy, you stay here."

"What?" she sputtered, eyes narrowing, "That's not happening."

Jon grabbed the door handle, looking back at her. "Just listen to me for once and stay behind.

"If you hadn't noticed," she huffed, pulling Shadow halfway out of its sheath, "I'm armed as well. And I beat you this morning in training.

"Because you kicked out my ankle," he hissed back, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of his voice, "That was a dirty trick-"

"We do not have time to argue!" Sienna spat, elbowing her way past him and tugging him along beside her.

Ghost quickly kept pace with them, his paws nearly silent on the stone floors. Sienna kept her grip on Jon's arm, partially to keep him at the same pace and partially to keep herself marginally calm. The direwolf's ears perked up, quickening his steps and taking them both out of the hall into the night. Jon kept pace, now pulling Sienna along with a worried look.

"Did you take your medicine tonight?" he asked worriedly, clearly understanding he wasn't going to be rid of her if she had any say in the matter.

She quickly nodded her head, dark locks falling into her eyes. "Only a few hours ago. Before we went into the kitchens."

The taller man nodded, still keeping pace with his wolf. "Stay close to me. If I say run, run."

"Sounds fair."

As she responded, Sienna nearly tripped over Ghost's tail. The creature had come to a stop in front of Mormont's door. Worry spread through her quicker than the cold outside. Briefly, Sienna noted that she was only wearing trousers and an old shirt. Both she and Jon pressed themselves close to the door.

"Commander?" Jon called out cautiously. When he heard no answer, he glanced at the girl next to him before pushing the door open with a hollow groan.

The room was silent. If not for the whines of Ghost and the sounds of boots against stone, it might have passed for normal. But something felt strange, cold. The darkness felt pregnant with something that shouldn't be there. Nervously, Sienna gripped the leather bound handle of Shadow, ready to tug it out at a moment's notice.

"Lord Commander?" Jon called out carefully, the edges of the words shaking ever so slightly. Nothing came. No answer, no bark to go back to their chambers or threats of consequences. There was just nothing.

Until there wasn't.

A loud slam emitted from behind them,followed by a low screech that echoed through the now locked room. Both Jon and Sienna whipped around, the girl tugging her sword out without thought. What they saw wasn't human, and it made Sienna's eyes widen so large she feared they might rip apart.

The man she'd seen brought in dead was standing before them, lips peeled back in a snarl and skin tinged a deadly blue. The whites of his eyes were gone, now an ugly purple web of burst blood vessels. Its rotten teeth were bared as it charged towards them. Sienna's body sprung into action, as if she were a puppet with strings being pulled too tight. With all her strength, she shoved Jon towards the wall, out of the way of the attack.

"Run-"

Cold fingers wrapped around her throat, ripping at her hair as the corpse pushed her against the wall. Sienna clawed at its wrists, wheezing and struggling for air as all the wind was knocked out of her. Its empty eyes bore into hers as his face seemed to sag. Tightening its grip, Sienna felt her jaw pop and a strangled scream leave her lips as the creature ripped her off of her feet and into the air. Her legs kicked wildly, hitting it in the knees and shins as hard as she could.

"NO!"

Jon's cry ripped through the room, overpowering the sounds of Ghost's deep growls. The dark haired man ran towards the creature and drove his sword straight through its middle. The blade went so far through that Sienna could see the edge of it under its skin. Immediately, its fingers loosened and the creature dropped her to the ground. A horrible wheezing sound went through her body, the girl sucking painfully for any air to enter her lungs.

The victory was short lived. The creature turned towards Jon, throwing him across the room with little effort. A sound that couldn't be human passed through it's mouth, a horrifying rattle that Sienna swore she would remember until she died. Jon continued to attack, managing to slice off its hand. Scrambling to her feet, head still spinning, she saw the creature slam Jon into the wall, swollen hands crushing his windpipe. Thinking as quickly as she could, Sienna ran forward and, with a hoarse cry, drove Shadow through its neck.

That seemed to catch it's attention.

It turned its dead eyes on Sienna, who was breathing hard and wielding her sword as fiercly as she could.

"Look over here!" she shrieked, snarling up at the great swollen man.

Her heart was beating hard gainst her ribcage, body begging her to fall back and go limp. But she couldn't. Not now. Her blood pumped hard and her mind felt, sharp alert. She was going to survive.

As he snarled and rattled his strange cry, Sienna let out a scream and slashed upwards as hard as she could. The ragged edge of her sword caught the edge of his jaw, pulling roughly against its skin and tearing through its face in a jagged diagonal line. To her horror, no blood spilled out. Its face snapped to the side. Taking advantage, she cried out and drove her sword through its chest. Jon ran in from behind, driving his own sword through its spine.

The creature's face went slack as they pulled their swords out. With a heavy thud, it fell to the ground.

Jon's eyes tore up to her, body frozen in shock. "Poppy-"

"Snow?"

Both of them turned at the sound of Mormont's voice. He stared out at them, eyes wide with confusion and horror. The lamp he held flickered and cast deep shadows over his face. His mouth moved as if he was trying to decipher what to ask, how to understand what he was seeing.

"Lord Commander!" Jon gasped, running towards the man. He grabbed Sienna's arm, pulling her roughly with him.

The chaos was making Sienna's head spin. The growls and cries of Ghost continued, making her turn around.

Gods, she wished she hadn't.

Rising from the ground, the creature's injuries ripped themselves even further open. It was as if it could feel no pain. Its shadow fell over them, dead purple and blue eyes cutting into them as if his only desire was to see them dead.

"Jon!" she screamed, throwing herself in front of Mormont in a vain attempt to protect him.

Shadow was still drawn, raised high and threateningly. Her heart slammed even harder when she realized Jon didn't have his sword. His head whipped around, looking for a weapon before settling on the lamp in Mormont's hand. Before she could protest, Jon grabbed the burning lamp barehanded. He cried out in pain before throwing it at the creature. Almost immediately, the thing went up in flames. A pained screech emmitted from its mouth, searing its way into Sienna's brain. Her jaw was wide open, eyes bulging in horror when she felt Jon's hand grab hard at her tunic. He didn't even speak, just pulled her out of the room towards safety along with the Commander.

Slamming and locking the door, the three were now in Mormont's chambers, out of breath and shaking. Ghost continued to growl, fur standing up and jaw tight. Sienna held tight to Shadow, still pointing it up at the door. Jon pressed his burnt hand against his chest, striding over to the girl. He pressed his fingertips against her throat.

"Are you okay?" he gasped, pushing her hair out of the way to examine the damage.

She quickly waved him off, grabbing hold of his bright red hand. "I'm fine. You need to take care of this."

"What in seven hells was that?"

The two looked over at the Lord Commander, breathing heavy and limbs going weak. His eyes were wide and bulging, terror clear on his face. Both of their mouths opened and closed, words dying on Sienna's tongue because there were no words. There were no combination of letters and sounds that could describe what she'd just seen.

A man had died. She'd seen his corpse rotting in the yard. And that man had come back to kill them.

There were stories like this. Some in her old book that Tyrion had given her years ago. The Night's Watch had battled something like this long ago. But those were stories. Stories didn't leap off the page. Didn't crush your windpipe with swollen, cold fingers or rattle their lungs or spit in your face.

Eyes slowly falling on the older man, Sienna opened her jaw with great difficulty and said the only thing that could possibly make sense.

"We don't know."

* * *

 **A/N: Surprise, bitch. Bet you'd thought you'd seen the last of me.**

 **Guest: Yo you got me off my ass and I'd like to thank you for that.**

 **UmiNight Angel Neko: You fill my heart with sunlight.**

 **sophiewhettingsteel: Sword boi strikes again!**

 **Lived1000Lives: Yay! You're a sweetie!**


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